The Missing
by Eladriewen
Summary: A ship goes down on the outskirts of the galaxy, and on it is Jim Hawkins. It's up to Silver to find and save him, but with Jim's serious injuries Silver worries if his friend will live long enough to see home, and that's not their only problem.
1. A Ship Downed

It was the same story as always. In between planets and galaxies, Silver always managed to find himself sitting in some run down pub, drinking what was guaranteed to be well out of date ale and casually eyeing the other ruffians that just happened to be his company that evening.

This particular night, however, there was an unusual murmur going around the pub. Apparently something big had happened somewhere, and it had a lot of the patrons buzzing excitedly. Many of them held newspapers, all from different planets and some in languages that Silver didn't even recognize (from what his mechanical eye could see). The story was always the same though: A military spacing ship had gone down somewhere. Half of the crew was missing, a few were captured by enemy armadas (or so the rumors said), and a small quarter of them had actually been properly rescued. On the face of it all, there had been a back draft from a nearby nebula which had utterly destroyed the boat. The crew members that were missing had been presumed for the most part dead, and those who were injured were not expected to survive. Wind burns, solar burns, and poisoning from adjoining toxic gas clouds had left most of them in lamentable conditions. The ship itself had disintegrated within a few hours, and by the time the first rescue boat had arrived to the spacers' aide there was very little to be found of it at all. The crew and passengers that were fortunate enough to have been found had already been drifting like dead weights through space for hours, and it had been declared by leading medical experts that they were, at this point, better off dead. As for those who were missing, search parties would be initiated, but it was clear that they expected to come up empty handed.

This, just from listening in on the conversations of other clientele at the pub, was what Silver had learned within the last hour. He did not ask questions, and in truth did not even think about it much. Ships went down all the time in space. It was one of the many dangers of the trade. The Legacy itself, the last ship Silver had ever served on, had had its own near fall outs as well. One from a black hole, and another from an exploding planet. Both of which they had barely escaped with their lives, and would not have done so were it not for the spectacular efforts of one teenage boy. Silver was suddenly forced to conceal a smile at the thought of the young Jim Hawkins, who had just a few weeks ago come home from his second year at the Interstellar Academy. Silver had received a letter upon Jim's arrival home asking whether or not he could expect another visit from his old spacer friend anytime soon. He had yet to reply, but had high hopes that he would not have to let Jim down. Truthfully, Silver himself had been long awaiting the day in which he could return to the comfort of the Benbow Inn (he had visited once the previous summer) where Sarah would cook her fine meals and Jim would share with him the many great tales that oft came from going to the very prestigious Interstellar Academy, where, as the school often bragged, the galaxies finest spacers had been educated. Of course, now that Jim was enrolled (and doing well, he was proud to say) Silver could agree finely on that note.

He took another swig of his ale as two motley alienoids took a seat at his side. He paid them no attention, and was hardly surprised to hear that they too were discussing, with great fervor, the incident which had suddenly been entitled the military's greatest tragedy. Or plunder.

"Three hundred, all together," commented the tallest of the two alienoids. He had three sets of eyes embedded in a high skill, with a mouth and nose that reminded Silver instantly of a snake. Fangs pricked the foreground of his mouth, giving the sickly sensation of vampirism to any who caught a first glance. His voice, however, was as normal as they came, and he seemed for the most part unconcerned about his appearances, regardless of how disturbing they were. His partner, however, was as short as he was tall, and as round as Silver. He, however, had only one glowing eye and no teeth. Instead, his tongue slivered in and out through the empty void that was filled only by his gums. The very tip of it opened into it's own mouth, through which the spacer guzzled a very fine mixture of mead and hard liquor.

"You don't say," said the fat alien. His voice was heavily accented, and held the slightest air of an aristocrat. Needless to say, this didn't really seem like his place. "Three hundred all together. eh?"

"Well, not dead," retorted the tall omni-sighted alien. "On the ship as a whole I mean. There's about two hundred plus crew and passengers missing. It's unlikely they'll find them of course." He flung his hands forward and made a great 'whooshing' sound as though to imitate the effects of a gaseous nebula cloud. His friend laughed.

"Yeah, same goes for those sailors I'm sure!"

They both shared a hearty cackle at that one.

"And of course, about fifty survivors over all," the tall alien continued. "Found 'em floating around in space. Some of their skin burned clear off parts of their body. Others just kind of had it hanging off 'em. Others got it worse though." He leaned in closer to relay more grotesque details about injuries. Silver was appreciative that the man had taken into account the fact that some people were trying to digest half-way decent food and ale.

"'Orrible!" the fat alien gasped. He paused for a moment, knocking the edges of his glass mug about on the counter. He was plainly in deep thought. "I can't help but feel bad for them."

"Yeah," agreed the other. He cast his gaze down almost guiltily, peering into his own mug and sneering. "Of course most people aren't happy about it."

The small alien looked incredulous. "Why's that?"

"Cause a lot of the crew were kids."

"What? Why in the blazes would they have kids as crew?"

"From the Academy of course!" said the tall alien very matter-of-factly. "Every student has to take at least one summer on sabbatical. Gives them on the job training."

Silver coughed and sputtered for he had just involuntarily inhaled half of his drink through his nose: the repercussions of having let out a gasp at this overwhelming news. His present condition did not go unnoticed by the two beside him.

"Are you all right, sir?" asked the chubby alien, his eyes curious.

Silver nodded, though he was still coughing terribly. He left a few drubloons on the counter and hastened to his room. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he shakily locked the door. Immediately he turned to sift through the great many pockets in his coat which had been hanging up on a nail that protruded from the wall. He was searching for Jim's letter. He hadn't been certain, but something inside of him had made his stomach churn at the mention of it from the two men down at the bar. Had their been mention of a month of sabbatical in Jim's letter?

With a cry of triumph he found it, nearly tearing it in his attempt to calmly undo the creases and lay it flat out in plain view. He read it, over and over again, finding no clue concerning Jim's plans. In fact, the letter was very vague concerning anything. All it stated was that he was going to be home for a while and wanted to know if Silver could make it for another visit within the month.

'Within the month?' Silver thought with a new streak of panic. What did that mean? Had Jim taken his sabbatical this summer?

A knock sounded at the door to Silver's room. He jumped, frightened half to death at the suddenness of such an intrusive noise. Silver made his way to the door, desperately urging his body to calm. Upon opening the door, he was surprised to find the Innkeeper staring back at him.

"This just arrived for you, sir," he said with very little significance. Silver nodded his thanks and took it with shaking hands. He then closed the door immediately and hoped that the innkeeper would not take much notice of his uneasy state.

"Just breath, John," he told himself as he collapsed into the nearest chair. "Just breath. Even if he did go on sabbatical, there's dozens of ships out there he could have been assigned to. What, in all honesty, was the possibility that Jim would have been assigned to this one?

'There isn't,' he immediately told himself. He closed his eyes, continuously breathing in and out. Silver wasn't even certain really why he was acting the way he was. 'Overreacting,' he told himself immediately. Silver laughed. Yes, that's exactly what he was doing. Overreacting. He was being stupid, ridiculous, and...dare he admit to it?

Overprotective?

Jim wasn't his son. The former pirate had no responsibility to the young man whatsoever, but that wasn't what Silver had allowed himself to believe privately. Jim needed a male figure to look up to. Someone to guide him and teach him, in some matters, how to 'be a man'. Silver had always believed that he had, if not completed that task, at least given the boy a push in the right direction. And, of course, in return, Jim had saved Silver's life more than once. He owed it to Jim to be there for him. And even if he didn't, Silver had no doubt in his mind that he would be there anyway.

This thought, however, turned into pale dust at his fingertips when he realized who the letter was from. Shaking hands traced the familiar name and address that decorated the back of the envelope. Although he did not recognize the handwriting right away, he had reason to believe that this was Jim writing him to let him know that everything was fine.

He hastily opened the envelope and felt his heart turn to ice in his chest. This was not a letter from Jim at all. It was from his mother, and inside was many portions of a newspaper article clipped haphazardly to its front. Silver skipped the article at first, although the headline was all too familiar to him by now: SHIP DOWNED IN UNEXPECTED VIOLENT WINDS FROM NEBULA. DOZENS MISSING.

The letter was much shorter then the article, and Silver did not take this as a good sign.

John,  
I don't know when this will reach you, but I hope it will be soon. As I am sure you have already heard, a ship was downed not too long ago. What you may not know is that many of the crew were cadets at the Academy. And, what I know you don't know is that Jim was one of the working cadets on this ship. I have received no word on him from the Academy, and can only assume that he is one of the many missing.  
I am writing to you, not only to inform you of this, but to ask if you would, as Jim's friend, grant me a large favor.  
An emergency headquarters has been set up on the planet nearest the accident; Salvus, butI cannot get there immediately. If it is not too much to ask, would you please go there and keep updated on the events taking place. I know that, though they have not released this information yet to the public, they are still finding survivors (and bodies) of the crew and passengers that had been onboard that ship. I am to be notified at once when they find Jim, but I have also informed them that I would like to come to Salvus in hopes of being there in case he is found.  
The article I have sent to you contains the most accurate version of the story, as well as a list of the missing and dead upon the ship. Please let me know if you can go to Salvus before me.  
With much love and appreciation,  
Sarah Hawkins

Silver observed that the handwriting was very unsteady compared to its normal artistic flow. How she had somehow stemmed her tears long enough to write a legible letter, he wasn't sure. His own forced up through his one flesh eye, while his mechanical one twitched for the lack of tear ducts. He sighed heavily, resting his face in his flesh hand. Before he had finished the letter, He had concluded that he would go to Salvus for Sarah. Perhaps by some mark of fate Jim would turn up. But even that seemed a horrible thought, because those who had been saved from the Etherium had turned up horribly scathed and half dead. Although Silver did not appreciate the concept of never seeing Jim again, he also did not wish for him to be in such pain. It was a paradox, but one that Silver had decided he would no longer think on. He had a duty to fulfill and an old friend to find. He would surely do just that.

As he tucked the letter away in his pocket, Silver's eyes fell over the other articles that had been attached to Sarah's letter. It was not a fulfillment of the report, but instead a list of names of those who had been on the ship. It was defined into two categories: MISSING and DEAD. He scrolled down the missing column until he found it:

**_Hawkins, James Pleiades; Academy Cadet, Year 2_**

Silver sighed sadly and tucked the letter, envelope, article and all into one of his numerous pockets. Grabbing his hat and everything else that he had brought with him, he made a beeline for the door. Finding the innkeeper, he turned in his key and left the inn without waiting to get the money back for his room.

He was out the door in minutes, and within the hour had already boarded a small boat on its way to Salvus.


	2. Salvus

Thank you to TL for pointing out my error in the last chapter. (smile) I swear I'm not usually that dense. It has been corrected, as well as a few redundancies in the letter from Sarah to Silver. Let's hope that that's all. (crosses her fingers).

* * *

Although Silver had spent as much time as possible in drawing up assumptions as to what Salvus and her people might be like, he soon realized as he stepped off the longboat and into the harbor that all of his ideas had fallen horrifically short of the appalling vision that plagued his sight at that very moment. The ship harbors were absolutely brimming with weeping men, women, and children as they sought desperately after the loved ones who had fallen in the disaster. Fires burned in tin barrels every few yards in hopes of keeping those who were outside warm. The scent of medicines and medicinal herbs could be identified from all over the docks while the bodies of the dead and dying were strewn about carelessly on makeshift cots and gurneys. The stench of death rose like a sickening cloud high into the air, accompanied only by smoke from the fires, and the pitiful wailing of the injured and the mourning. 

A shudder creased its way up John Silver's spine. For all he could deduce of this havoc that lay before his wide eyes, he knew that if there was any hope if finding Jim, there was no way he would remain alive for very long. The thought of even such a possibility made him sick, but he forced himself to press onward. Certainly there was someone he could talk to who would know where to go in concerns of being updated on the whereabouts of those who were still missing. Boats were arriving with more recovered spacers and passengers even as Silver navigated his way through the masses. He was careful to keep his gaze upward while he walked. The thought of seeing one of these young lads, any of whom might possibly remind him of Jim, was enough to tear his heart out.

Their pain was so severe it went unknown even to him, who had lost much of his own body in a horrific accident long ago. Yet it seemed that as he weaved and wagged his way through the narrow paths made by their cots and coffins, there was no way to escape it. Their screams and pleadings crept to his ears even in his wake, and he could not help but feel swells of pity for the spacers and passengers alike, and their families.

What horrific ordeals had they faced before all of this? And now, as they lay dying of horrific pain, the only thing that would ever be done for them and their families would be an all expenses paid funeral, and a medal to remind them every day of the horror andanguish their loved ones had went through for a career that showed hardly any appreciation. Alas, that was how it went for everyone. The Etherium gave and the Etherium took away. That was the way of it. Fairness was not a factor oft considered, especially in dealings with fate and destiny.

As he traveled onward toward any specific someone who at least looked official, a vision came across Silver's semi-overactive imagination. He could see Mrs. Hawkins sitting at a fire, aged and careworn now, obviously retired from her duties as an innkeeper. Her small, thin, and now slightly frail frame was nestled cozily in an overstuffed, overlarge armchair. To whom it belonged did not matter, but what he did see was the tears forming in her eyes as she lovingly caressed a small wooden box. The very face of the box was sealed in a glass fixing that allowed her to see what was inside: a golden medal, well polished and hand carved, and upon it was written the name **_James Pleiades Hawkins_**, and beneath that, a date. **_July 25th, 1643_**.

The vision ended, leaving Silver in a state of awed silence at the concept his imagination had presented him. If Jim was gone, there would be no one to take care of Sarah. She would live on, alone and forever lonelyupon a forgotten mining planet, with no one but her memories and herself to ease her pain until her last days.

Silver shook his head, snorting furiously through his nose. Such thoughts could not be allowed to overcome him, or he would never be able to fulfill his duty. With a forced sigh and a sudden urge of will from a source he did not know, Silver trudged forward through the seas of death and the winds of decay, determined to do all within his power to find Jim Hawkins and put his nerves at ease, and those of his mother.

* * *

A few days later, Silver was surprised to be staring into the ashen face of Sarah Hawkins who had finally arrived at the harbors of Salvus. Her trip had been hectic, but to Silver's surprise she had made it alive and well, and swiftly. He hadn't expected her to arrivefor at least a week, but here she was now, staring himcarefullyin the eye as if searching for a hint of news that the old pirate may not have been willing to tell her out loud. However, after a few seconds of gazing, she seemed satisfied with her tacit deduction:Jim was not here. 

Their greeting afterward was informal at best, since Sarah wasted no time at melting away into a fit of sobs under Silver's large arms. He comforted her as best he could, and was thankful that no one stared for too long. Although they certainly made an odd pairing, most understood and even expected people to suddenly break down here. Considering all that many of these people were going through, and what they were seeing in the streets, it was hard to keep ones nerves in tact.

"Now, Miss Sarah," Silver cooed gently. "Don't you be frettin' just yet. Yer wastin' yer tears."

She pulled away, sniffing slightly. "I don't know, John," she said with a sigh. Her sunken eyes peered out over the vast oceans of suffering spacers and space-going travelers who's bodies littered the streets of Salvus. "It seems so cruel to want him to be alive if this is what he's going through."

Although Silver could say nothing, he himself had thought the same thing.

"Everything's going to be okay," he told her with an arm around her shoulder.

Silver suddenly felt very odd, standing there so close to a woman. Even though Sarah did not seem to mind, he felt it necessary to question the propriety of such a stance. Sarah was not his wife, nor a friend really. In truth, all they really shared was their love for Jim. The thought of them sharing anything else was, to Silver, uncanny; even though his heart whispered to his mind that there was nothing wrong with it.

Clearing his throat, Silver retracted his arm and quickly shoved both hands in his pockets. "Have yeh eatin' anything?" he asked her, hoping that maybe she had.

"Not since yesterday," Sarah responded. She pressed her hand to her head and swiftly wiped away some stray locks of brown hair.

"Are yeh hungry?"

Sarah's brow furrowed. "Not hungry," she answered. "Although I wouldn't mind finding somewhere that serves good tea." Her gaze fluttered up to Silver. "You wouldn't know of one, would you?"

Eager to take a break from the constant screams and weeping that were plaguing the streets, he shook his head. "No, but I wouldn' mind a cup of tea myself." And without thinking he took her arm in his and lead her down the street.

"How long did it take you to get here?" he asked after they had found a quaint little restaurant, had been seated, and now waited to be served.

"A few days," Sarah admitted, sliding her coat off and tossing it over the back of her chair. "The ride was horrid, but I didn't think to complain."

"You look tired."

Sarah smiled, obviously touched by Silver's concern. "As you can imagine, I haven't been sleeping well since."

Silver nodded. Yes, he could imagine quite well.

"I can't tell you how much this means to me, Mr. Silver," said Sarah. Her voice had lowered almost to a whisper, and the sudden formality at her addressing him made Silver slightly uncomfortable.

"You can still call me John," he interjected quietly.

Sarah smiled and nodded her appreciation. "John. I wouldn't have asked, but the thought of him possibly being here, like this, like them...alone...well, I thought that if you could at least reach him...in case he were..." she paused, wiping away a tear. "Thank you, John."

A frown had suddenly crept over John Silver's face. So she had wanted him here to be with Jim in case he was dying? So that he wouldn't be alone? Silver wasn't certain how to respond to that. Although it was comforting to know that she trusted Silver so deeply with her son, even in a situation as detrimental as this, he was not certain how he would have been able to handle it. Sarah seemed to sense this and almost immediately reached across the table and took his one flesh hand in both of hers.

"I'm sorry, John. I should have been more forward with you."

Silver cleared his throat.

"It's all right, Miss Sarah," he stated. There was really nothing to forgive, but the idea in general still made him sick. Just the thought of Jim dying...

"You're sure?"

Nodding, Silver pulled away his hand. The tea came a few moments later, and they both were able to enjoy a warm drink in each other's company.

After a few minutes of conversation, Silver found himself warmed at heart for the oddly weclome company he had suddenly found himself in. Much to his initial surprise, he discovered that Morph had accompanied Sarah in her journey. B.E.N. had stayed behind to make sure that the Benbow remained safe, and Silver was slightly humored to hear that she had promised to write a robot at least once a week to make sure that he was kept up to date on Jim and her own well being.

"He's a very good worker," said Sarah in an attempt to disband the cyborg's dubious smile. "And Jim is very dear to him."

Silver's smile only widened. However, this information did not surprise him. Jim was dear to many. Even his teachers it seemed, as Sarah told him the many tales of his school adventures. The ones, apparently, that Jim had forgotten to tell his old friend himself.

"His teachers all have the highest respect for him," she said wistfully. Her cheek rested lazily upon her left palm while her eyes gazed listlessly into her tea cup. "Highest marks in his class. First recommendations ever since Amelia enlisted him. He didn't disappoint."

For the first time in many days, Silver laughed.

"That's not surprising."

Sarah looked up at him, grinning slightly.

"Of course, I have you to thank for it."

Having not expected this comment, Silver inhaled half of his drink and suddenly began to cough and sputter "What?" he asked after regaining his senses. "What's that?"

"I have you to thank, John."

"For what?"

"For Jim. For what you did, whatever you did. It really...it helped him."

Silver felt the heat rise in his face. He turned his gaze away shyly. "I didn't do nothing," he admitted with a wave of his hand. "He was my cabin boy. I was only keeping him out of trouble."

"Which was what I failed to do for fifteen years," Sarah stated with a sly grin. Silver sighed and willingly accepted his defeat, but he refused to take credit for Jim, regardless of what his mother had to say about it.

"I'm sure it wasn't anything --"

"Give it up, John," she commented. He looked at her, slightly taken aback by the sudden sharpness of her voice. "You made a difference in his life. You can't argue that."

Silver sighed. He thought on the matter, taking a few swigs of his coffee before finally replying; "Maybe I did."

"I know you did." Sarah crossed her arms and leaned forward. A sly smile was creeping over her face, and a glimmer was birthed in her eyes. "You were more of a father to him than any other man in his life. You gave him what I couldn't John. You gave him what he needed."

Silver could feel the heat rising in his face once more. "And what was that?"

"A male role model. He needed that to look up to, and you were it. Thank you, John. You made my son a man."

"Nah," Argued Silver. "He was already a man. He just needed a good kick in the seat of the pants."

Sarah chuckled. "Well, he needed that too."

Silver soon joined in her laughter. When they had settled, the conversation turned suddenly much more serious.

"I hope he's all right."

Frowning, Silver leaned forward. This time he took her hands in his. A confident smile creased his face as he said; "He will be. You'll see."

The words were foolish. Their hopes was certainly wasted, but for all it was worth, they couldn't afford to give up on Jim yet. He meant too much to both of them. They silently enjoyed each other 's company from that point on, sipping tea and tuning out the cries of heartbreak that came from the docks to the east.

* * *

_Okay. Well, since I've never actually read Treasure Island, I have no idea what year it took place so I just kind of guessed. And then there's the question about Treasure Planet being more of a futuristic kind of setting, or if this is just a completely different, you know, universe. So I just slapped a year in there and added the day in which I had started this chapter. So...yeah. No confusion, just a simple lack of knowledge. My apologies._


	3. Leaving

Days turned into weeks while Silver and Sarah did all they could to make themselves useful in the wake of the tragedy that had forever changed the lives of so many people. Each day brought more news, more bodies, and more dying, but gave them nothing concerning the one person that they were both looking for. Their hopes were slowly drowned out by the tears of mothers and wives who ceaselessly wailed at the horrible news that their son or husband would not be returning home. Fathers wept for hoursover lost wives and daughters, while strangers simply stared on in hopes that family and friends that had once been passengers would be returned safe and sound. Of course, most understood that such fates would be otherwise, but Silver and Sarah held hope. They knew Jim was strong, and that as long as he still had breath in his lungs and blood in his body, he would fight to see them again, if only for one last time.

Or that was what they had believed at first. But as time waned, news began to dwindle. Hopes sank and were hushed, like the strength and lives of so many victims that both Sarah and Silver had seen come and go in passing. Soon, the possibility of seeing Jim alive everagain had disappeared, and they found themselves hopelessly trudging through their days upon Salvus in a stupor that found no end.

After two months, they finally decided that it was time.

* * *

At long last, Sarah came forward. She told John Silver that she would be returning to Montressor, and apologized for what she had believed to be a great wasting his own time, even if it had meant everything to her that he had stayed by her side.

It was raining the lastevening of Sarah and Silver's stay. They'd spent countless days upon the docks of Salvus with absolutely no news of Jim or his whereabouts. Search teams had come back with either corpses or with nothing at all, save perhaps some of the remaining bits of the ship. Heavy hearted, both Silver and Sarah knew that there would be little else that could be given to them. Closure was now as far out of their minds as their first hopes of seeing Jim alive.

A mournful silence overcame Silver from the point Sarah had declared that she would be returning home. In a sense, he recognized it as her giving up on Jim and his strength. Of course, it wasn't as though there was much else she could do. Two months should have brought them some news, or so he had believed. Anything, at least a shred of evidence. But no, that had not been the case. They had both finally settled on leaving after so many days of waiting, sorely disappointed and deeply broken hearted over the matter. It seemed logical to believe that Jim was gone, and that there would be no return; cheerful, tearful, or anything of the like. He was simply gone, and though the concept was easy to grasp, it was very difficult to swallow.

Their last night together, Silver sat up at his table and stared sadly out into the nighttime sky. Constellations that were both new and old to him peppered the midnight sky, and his talented spacer's eye had no trouble in pinpointing a few nearby planets. None of this brought comfort to his heart though. Somewhere out there was Jim, or what remained of him, and even though very little of the true universe was opened up to Silver at that particular location in space, he knew that even from here there was no way to even generalize where Jim might be.

A familiar coo awoke Silver from his thoughts, and he turned to find Morph hovering sadly beside him. The metamorphic creature's sad face revealed to Silver thathe did not fully understandthe reason for so many somber faces amongst his friends and adopted family. He looked at Silver questioningly andthen transformed into a small figure that he knew all too well. It was Jim: his hair trimmed,dressed in a well-pressed academy uniform: brass buttons and all. A genuine smile creased the young, miniature face, and Morph had even managed to mimic the boy's youthful, carefree laugh. Tears swiftly welled in Silver's eyes, and he had to turn away his gaze as Morph reverted back into his true form. Again the creature cooed, but he received no words of wamth from his former master. Instead Silver extended his forefinger which Morph landed on, accepting the perch morosely.

"Jimbo ain't coming back, Morphie," he declared after a few moments, understanding the intentions of the creature's behavior. Morph's face grew long with concern and sadness. Silver sighed. "He's gone," was all that he could bring himself to say. The creature's bottom lip quivered, and Silver believed that he understood. Silently, and heavily, Morph hovered back into Sarah's room where he could already hear one person weeping quietly.

Sighing once more, Silver rested his head against the back of his chair. He watched the stars sparkle in deceptive joy and beauty. It was a dangerous, alluring beauty, he knew. The Etherium claimed many lives, for so numerous were the dangers out in space. These past weeks had been a primary example of those dangers, and the tragedy that ensued from them. Unfortunately, this time, the lesson had struck too close, and Silver was painstakingly relearning a lesson he was certain to never again forget. As if the loss of half of his body hadn't been enough, fate had wielded him yet another lesson. And this one had been even more painful.

A tear trickled slyly down his drawn cheek. Silver didn't bother wasting any effort in trying to wipe it away. His sorrow was too deep to be concealed anymore. The most precious thing in his life was gone. He could afford himself the tears now. And those tears came. One, two, and then suddenly the dam within him burst. All Silver could do was allow his head to sink into his arms while his heart sank into darkness.


	4. My Name Is Jim Hawkins

__

One Month Later...

A harsh rapping sounded at the door of the Benbow Inn. Silver, who had already finished the nightly rounds and was just now beginning to clean the bar, looked up with a thoughtful frown. He'd only worked here a month, but he knew that late night visitors and patrons were rare in coming here.

"Wonder who that could be," he heard Sarah mutter from the kitchen.

"I'll get it," said Silver. He dropped his dish rag on the countertops and approached the doorway. A heavy rain had swept over the town in the past hour, making itself known with the vociferous roar of thunder and numerous blinding white lightening strikes. Not the kind of weather a normal person would desire to travel in. Nevertheless, as Silver opened the door, he found a stranger standing outside in such a mess, dressed all in black (and soaked to the bone) and hovering as close to the threshold as he could, taking advantage of what shelter the overpass offered him, which, Silver noticed with an air of humor, was not very much. "Can I help you?" he asked with an irritated frown.

If Silver's size wasn't intimidating enough, surely the precise glare that he now offered this diminutive creature was; cutting the words right out of his mouth as though he had sliced his tongue. Yet, regardless of how intimidated he was, the delivery boy had not forgotten his message, or at least, who it was for.

"Is...is Mrs. Hawkins in?" he squeaked from beneath the hood of his weather stained cloak. Silver harrumphed and turned to find Sarah already stalking up the isles toward the door.

"Thank you, John," she said with a smile. Sarah pressed her way between the young man at the door and Silver, who immediately stepped aside, but did not move too far away. Pulling a few stray locks of brown hair out of the way, she mustered her best smile and introduced herself as the person he was looking for.

"This is for you, ma'am," he said and handed her an envelope. Silver recognized it immediately. It was from the academy.

"Oh," came Sarah's voice which had suddenly hushed down to a hesitant whisper. "I've already received my notice, sir," she explained, eager to hand the letter back. The messenger pushed her hand back and shook his head, carefully eying John to make sure that this would not ensue in an attack.

"This isn't concerning that, ma'am," he explained while dropping his gaze.

"I see," Sarah glared back down at the envelope. Her gaze was obviously skeptical. "Then what is it concerning, sir?"

"You'll see, ma'am." He bowed respectfully, tugged his hood further over his face, and stepped out in to the rain where his form was lost against the haze and fury of the storm that was still blowing in.

Sarah closed the door behind her. She peered down at the envelope almost indignantly and settled down by a window side seat. She tossed it onto the tabletop and glared at it, as though she were not certain whether she wanted to open it or not.

"What on earth could they want?" she asked herself. Silver, who had returned to wiping down the countertops, sighed. He could not think of an answer, at least not one that he wanted to share. After the incident with Jim, his opinions of the academy had lessened dramatically. They'd barely taken care of Jim's arrangements, and in truth, they'd caused Sarah more grief than they had assistance, and in the end it had been Silver that had done all he could for the young woman. Not that he had minded, but it would have been nice if that blasted school did more for its people. Piracy had more honor...

"Are you going to open it?" Silver asked suddenly, hoping to dismiss the thought that had just crossed his mind.

"I suppose I should," responded Sarah. "Not that I care much about what they have to say."

"Well, I suppose it could finally give you reason to send that letter you wrote last month."

She chuckled, making Silver hide his smile beneath the bar stand. Sarah Hawkins had, not too long ago, written a strongly worded letter concerning the procedures at the academy, but she'd never really had the heart to send it. Silver hoped that maybe this would change that, for the letter had many good points, and most certainly voiced the opinions of many other parents who had lost their children on their year of sabbatical.

"I suppose."

The sound of ripping paper rattled the silence that filled the Benbow, and Silver calmly waited for her reaction while she read. When nothing happened, he could not help but poke his head over the countertop in curiosity. The sight inflicted from the letter was all too familiar. Sarah sat with her face in her hands, her shoulders heaving in silent sobs. With a sad sigh, Silver crept forward and placed his flesh hand upon her shoulder.

"Why don't you go to bed, Sarah," he said gently. "I'll finish up here."

He was surprised when Sarah shook her head. With a bunched up, almost furious face, she pushed the letter toward him. Silver picked it up and read it through: once, twice, three times, uncertain that he had comprehended what it was saying.

"Are they..?" Silver stopped. The words seemed too implausible to even speak.

"Yes," said Sarah after a few more moments of silence. "They think they found him."

----------

Sarah had set out for the Academy the next morning in hopes of learning more about the reasoning behind the letter. Silver had stayed behind, despite the fact that Sarah had closed the Benbow today. Luckily, they had had no patrons staying the night. However, many regulars had been sorely disappointed that they would not be able to eat at their favorite diner that morning.

Silver himself sat at the main table, drumming his mechanical fingers upon the wooden surface in hopes that he might calm his nerves. But his valiant efforts failed, for it hadn't help in the least. His thoughts kept going back to the letter, and what it might possibly mean. Of course, his common sense told him that they would finally have a real funeral, and the closure that they had all secretly been longing for. But some part of Silver hoped that Sarah would walk through that door, and in her shadow would be a one hundred percent Jim Hawkins, smiling and laughing, just as Silver remembered him.

Of course he knew that such hopes were unfounded and ridiculous. There was no way, after this much time, that Jim could be alive. He would have contacted them by now. He would have come home. They would have heard something. They would have known. There was no denying it, but for some reason Silver had never really let go of that belief. He was certain that it was due to a lack of closure, but then again, at the same time, he wasn't so sure. Something held on, as he supposed it always would. It was part of being...dare he say it...a father?

Silver sighed, because he knew deep down that, in a sense, he was. Jim had shown it, Sarah had admitted it, and Silver had felt it deep down within him. The grief, the anxiety and the tears; the sleepless nights filled with unsubstantiated hope...it was all signs of a deeper relationship that Silver had never initially been aware of.

If only he had had more time.

It was late in the evening when the door to the Inn clicked open as Sarah used her key. Her bodily actions were mechanical, but her face seemed somewhere else, as though her mind had somehow boarded a different ship as she had started on her way home. She took a few steps forward out onto the floor before her gaze drifted up to meet Silver's.

"Well?" he asked, trying to keep any discriminating tones out of his voice. He had been standing by the time Sarah had entered, but as she approached him she grabbed his arm and urged him to sit again. "Is it that bad?" Silver asked hesitantly.

"They didn't find him, John," she said after a few minutes of thoughtful silence. "They didn't find Jim."

As he had assumed would happen, Silver felt sudden anger rise within him. Once again they'd been lead by the nose to a false outcome.

"How much longer are they going to be doing this?" he asked, not bothering to hide his anger. Silver unintentionally slammed his flesh hand into the table, cursing while he did so. "They're toying with us!"

"They're not doing it intentionally," Sarah stated in hope of reasoning with him. "They're just trying to help us."

"By rubbing it in our face that they failed? And what it cost us?"

A flicker of a grin found it's way to Sarah's face, and Silver realized exactly what he had done. "Us". "Our". It reminded the both of them exactly what it was they were facing. It reminded Sarah that she was not alone, and it told Silver that he would never again be able to argue the fact he was not what Sarah claimed him to be in Jim's eyes, because Jim was obviously everything in Silver's eyes.

"It doesn't matter what they're _trying_ to do," said Silver after a few moments. "What matters is that they keep giving you hope, and then they take it away. Are they still even looking or have they just decided to leave what's left and hope that it drifts into orbit around some nearby planet soon?"

Sarah visibly blanched at these words, and Silver was forced to bite his tongue.

"I don't know," she answered after a few moments. "I honestly don't know what they're doing. I don't care to ask. Whatever they find, it won't be Jim. Not anymore."

The two suddenly became aware of the fact that they were not alone. Sarah and Silver turned their gaze to find B.E.N. gazing eagerly at them from around a corner.

"You can come out, B.E.N.," Sarah called.

"I already heard everything," the robot replied somberly. "Nothing again?" Sarah nodded, and B.E.N. immediately traced his way back up the steps, no doubt to Jim's room where he could mope silently, left well enough alone by everyone.

More silence ensued, then finally, Silver stood. "I'm going to bed," he stated. "Unless there's something else you'd like for me to do?"

"No, John," she reassured him. "Thank you for all your help."

Silver bowed his head and trudged up the stairs, his heart growing heavier with every step. 'You're a blasted fool,' he told himself as he made his way to his room. 'To think that he'd be coming back.'

----------

"He's still in bad shape," said a young female voice. He couldn't see just yet, but he was very aware of a burning sensation that covered most of his left face and upper chest.

"It's been a month," came a male voice. "You'd think he would have snapped out of it by now."

"Not necessarily," the female voice returned. "The extent of his injuries are severe. The fact that he survived this long is, really, quite amazing."

Someone snorted off in the distance.

"Sure would like to know where he's from."

"I could probably give you an answer to that question," came the female voice once more. "Remember that ship that went down near Salvus a few months ago?"

"You're insane!" the male voice retorted immediately. "Hardly anyone survived that."

"Hardly anyone," said the female in a tone which obviously revealed that she was very strong in her beliefs. "That means there were some survivors, however few. I think he may be one of them."

"Well, it would explain the burns. The toxic gases in his lungs...everything, really."

"Exactly."

A bitter liquid was suddenly poured into his mouth. He coughed and sputtered, but it went down easily.

"He's awake!" screamed the woman at once. The two men in the room with her immediately left, calling for help. "Sir?" the woman yelled. She was terribly close now. "Sir! Can you hear me?"

"Yes."

"What's your name, sir? Can you tell me something about yourself?"

There was pause. Finally, with another cough, he answered her question.

"My name is Jim Hawkins."


	5. News of Your Son

Dear Readers;  
I have recently discovered that Hell is easily defined by eating a quarter of a pound of dark chocolate only to realize that you have no milk in the house.  
That is all.

* * *

The sun had barely risen when Silver got up that morning. Roosters crowed out their praises to the rising sun while crickets were just now tucking themselves into their earthen beds. Miners all over the fields were both waking up and going to sleep, and the first buzz of life was just making itself known in these precious, fragile hours of the day. 

Every morning for the past four weeks, Silver had awoken at day break to prepare the Benbow Inn for her first onrush of customers. He didn't mind, in fact, he enjoyed it. The silence of the inn during the twilight hours was a precious time for him to just sit back, relax, and enjoy the sounds of his newfound home. Sarah would be awake in about an hour, and he might even be able to grab a few moments of conversation before it became nothing but orders and break notices back and forth.

He started the stoves and began warming the plates. He washed the trays, and made sure that there was enough silverware for their estimated amount of patrons for that morning. Bowls, napkins, cups, and mugs were all laid out on the counter, ready to serve. Silver himself was already making breakfast for both himself and for Sarah when she came down to greet him.

"Oh my," she exclaimed, a grin flickering over her face. "Thank you John, it looks wonderful."

"My pleasure, Miss Sarah," he said with a grin of his own. Silver started wiping his hands on his apron and went back into the kitchen. He turned the stoves down so that they didn't burn up too much fuel and joined Sarah at their table. With his own plate prepared, they, together, enjoyed a well rounded breakfast before the day started.

And it did start. Stampedes of people herded in, easily labeling this one of the busiest days of the month. Even Silver broke a sweat trying to keep up with all the orders, and by the time the evening came around, both Sarah and Silver were so exhausted that they didn't even bother washing the last load of dishes. Finally, when the last customer walked out of the door, Sarah immediately pegged up the CLOSED sign in the nearest windowand made her way to the nearest couch. After a few minutes, both of them sat sprawled out over a couch, panting and sighing in heavy, drippy exhaustion. Sarah had her arms up over her eyes while Silver patted his face down with a wet rag.

"Holy cow!" he exclaimed, sinking deeper into his chair. "I didn't know this business could get so hectic!"

Sarah grinned underneath her arm. "You have no idea."

Chuckling, Silver pulled his feet up onto a stool. His arms were crossed behind his head, and he seemed quite ready to sit back and enjoy a good smoke from his trusty pipe. "And I thought working on the Legacy was demanding."

Silver stopped, bashing himself inwardly for his stupidity. If he could have taken back those words he would have, for suddenly a million memories of a youthful, smiling face flickered to life in the back of his mind. He heard a laugh echo somewhere in a distant past he had hoped to forget, and felt that ever so familiar sense of companionship begin to wash over him once more. Recollections of Jim immediately began to flow into his head, like a moving picture that he could neither stop nor look away from. And as he knew, the aftershock of that earthquake soon trickled in as well through the seeping cracks of his emotional wall. The pangs of loss, the pangs of regret, and the icy gnawing of failure and improperly placed retribution suddenly caused the walls he had so forcefully endured to crack under the ever existent weight. There was naught to see of this all on his face, except for the silent betrayal of one tear that had slipped past the corner of his eye, and lost its way in the deep creases and valleys of John Silver's aging face.

"I miss him," Silver said suddenly, without even thinking about it really. His gaze dropped to the floor in unfounded guilt, which was surpassed only by his sinking heart.

A hand suddenly found his shoulder. He looked up to see Sarah staring down upon him kindly. There was anguish in her eyes as well, but from what Silver could see, there was also healing. Something that he had yet to find.

"I know you do." Her voice was gentle and composed, and it was all but soothing for Silver to hear her say those words. "I miss him too." Without realizing it, Silver reached up and took her hand in his. They stayed that way for many minutes, in silent reminiscing and mourning, before at last returning to their seats in thoughtful silence.

It was an hour later that they finally decided that it was time to say goodnight. Slipping her head past his, Sarah gave John Silver a light kiss goodnight before heading up the stairs. Silver could only sit in wonder and confusion, trying desperately to piece this all together into something that made sense.

* * *

After a few days of drifting in and out of consciousness, Jim was finally able to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. During these very brief periods, nurses and doctors asked him all assortments of questions, including re-asking him his name, his home planet, and where they could find someone that was related to him that they might be able to contact. 

Jim did his best to answer all of these questions.

"Jim Hawkins. Montressor. My mother; she works at and runs the Benbow Inn."

"And what is her name?"

"Sarah Hawkins."

"Is there anyone else we can contact in the event that we are unable to find her?"

Jim flinched, not wanting to consider the possibility of his mother not being where she had always been. It would just be his luck if after all this mess she had assumed him dead, and hadmoved on to somewhere else.

"Maybe," said Jim after a few seconds of contemplation. "But he would be harder to find."

"What's his name?"

"John Silver."

There was a pause. "Relation?"

Jim was drifting out of consciousness rapidly, and he knew that if he left it at 'friend' then they would not evenconsider this John Silver a suitable contact. With one last thought in his mind, Jim strained, whispered the word "Father", and then fell into a deep darkness.

* * *

Evening fell, and once again all of the customers of the Benbow Inn had either found their room, or were leaving for the night. Sarah Hawkins had just finished washing up the last load of dishes and was about to call it a night when a knock rang out on the door. 

"Did I forget to put the sign up again?" she asked with an exasperated grunt.

"I got it, Mrs. H!" said B.E.N. from the customer dining room. He jovially pranced up to the door and swung it open. "Welcome to the Benbow!" the robot hollered loudly from where he stood. "I'm afraid we're closed at these hours, good sir, but if you would like to come back tomorrow we would be more than happy to-"

"I need to talk to Sarah Hawkins."

The sharpness of his tone silenced B.E.N. immediately where he stood. The robot gulped slightly, despite the necessary lack of such an action due to his robotic nature, and turned to seek Sarah out apprehensively with his questioning eyes.

"Mrs. H, there's someone here for you."

Sarah sighed and wiped her hands on her apron. She exited the kitchen, bidding Silver to stay. If someone had recognized him and there was an issue, she understood that he would need the opportunity to make a run for it. Silver too had understood. She'd mentioned it before, but he never had taken kindly to bolting and leaving her behind. Nevertheless, she took care to ignore his concerned gaze and strode into the main room, holding her hand out in a stiff, if formal and appropriate, greeting.

"I'm Misses Hawkins," she declared with an air of pride and purpose.

"Ma'am, we need to speak with you." He did not seem to realize that she had extended a greeting, and boorishly ignored it.

"Then speak," she said with no air of compassion. "But you'll do it here. I'll not have anyone coming in at night to take advantage of my services, or that of my co-workers."

The man, whoever he was, seemed perturbed, but said nothing.

"We've received news on your son, ma'am. James Hawkins."

There was a moment in silence, as though the entire inn had stopped to hold its breath.

"Continue," she bid him, her gaze hardening.

"A hospital on the planet Bedua has just contacted the academy. They say they have a young man of about sixteen years that claims to be Jim Hawkins."

Sarah's face darkened noticeably. Even from where Silver stood, he could tell she wasn't buying into it. Her heart had hardened at the idea of ever seeing any sign of her son again, and she had resolved to steel herself against any sign of emotion at his mention once and for all, lest it were in front of Silver.

"Does he?" she asked. "Do they havepicture identification? A letter? Anything?"

"No identification, ma'am," the man replied at once. "And he is too weak to write any letters. The extent of his injuries proves that he was most likely in a serious accident, and since he has been unconscious for over a months time, they had no way of knowing exactly what had happened. But-"

"But he claimed to have been on the ship, and is now claiming to be my son," Sarah snapped. "Tell me, do you have any proof that you're from the academy?"

There was silence, and then, "No, ma'am."

"Oh!" Sarah's brow raised in mock surprise. "Well then, good day to you sir." And with that slammed the door in his face. Silver exited the kitchen a few minutes later, his heart breaking at the sound of Sarah's sobs.

"I don't understand people these days," said Sarah, her voice quivering beneath her upraised hands that had now come up to meet her face. "Why do they insist on mocking me? Mocking my pain?"

Silver grimaced. He didn't know what to say. All he could do was warmly take her shoulders in his hands and soothe her tears.

"They weren't mocking you," Silver said gently. "I'm sure they're doing all they can to help, they just don't know what to do."

"They can start by leaving us alone." Sarah stood, sniffling slightly while straightening her skirts. "I'm going to bed," she announced. "Goodnight, John."

"Goodnight Sarah."

With a deep frown he watched her walk away, leaving him alone in the main dining hall to sort through his own confusing, cracked feelings. He peered past the window one last time and spied the stranger, taking off on a long boat from the docks some yards away. He cursed the man for opening old wounds, and immediately started in on cleaning up after what was left of the day's commerce.

* * *

Jim opened his eyes and immediately wished away the annoying lights of his new hospital room. Their intensity ate away at his brain and his eyes, causing the pain he was already experiencing to heighten tenfold. If that weren't enough, someone was callously poking his right arm over and over again with a very sharp instrument. Upon lifting his head (a task in itself) Jim found it to be a nurse, who seemed more than determined to get a blood sample from him. 

"What's going on?" he muttered. The nurse looked up, apparently very surprised that Jim was alive.

"Good morning, sir!" she greeted too cheerily. "How are you this fine day?"

Jim grunted. It was the most intelligent thing that he could manage at that moment.

"Ah I see." She continued to prod his arm. "We've attempted to get in touch with your mother."

Jim's eyes shot open. "Huwha?" he asked, blinking rapidly in hopes that it might stem the pain from the lights overhead.

"Mmhmmm. Sent one of our men to the academy and they said they'd get in contact with your mother as soon as possible."

Jim sighed in relief. If they were contacting his mother, that meant she would be here, and he would be able to see her again. Warmth swelled in his heart at that hopeful though, and it helped to quell his severe pain, knowing that his mother would be there soon.

"When?" Jim asked. His throat had become unbearably dry during the time in which he had been sleeping, and though he felt ill, he could hear his stomach growl fiercely from beneath the white sheets that failed to conceal all of his wounds.

"When what, dear?"

"When will she be here?"

The nurse paused. "You'll have to ask the doctor. He takes care of all that."

Clicking his tongue, he turned to face the young woman who had still not ceased at her task of retracting blood. "Where is he?"

"He'll be visiting you soon, dear." She looked up and winked. After she had (finally) finisher her task, she left. But for all Jim's determination and desire, the sudden blood loss as well as the mingling of medication and exhaustion, he could not keep himself awake. He felt himself slip away just as the doctor walked through his door.

* * *

I'm very happy that everyone's enjoying this so far. I certainly am having a lot of fun writing it. Just to let you all know, I already have every chapter up to 8 written and ready to go! YAY! I think you'll be very pleased, but I can't upload it all right away I'm afraid. On another note, I _did_ intend to make this a _very_ slight Sarah/Silver fic, but it is not the main point of the story, and I don't think I'll give it much more attention after chapter 8 because I have more important things to focus on as far as where this is going.  
And to Ari, I know how you feel. I like Silver better too, but I do think Jim is cute in an adorable kid sense (he's almost 3 years younger than me, so it would be kind of weird for me to have a crush on him).  
Oh, and one more thing everybody. I revised chapter four. I can't believe I posted it with that many errors in it! I'm such a friggin' moron! That's the last time I do that again. (smacks herself)  
(Special hugs to Dianne) I forgot to say this before, but you and your son have really good taste in Disney movies! Treasure Planet is my ultimate fav!


	6. Just Let Me Try

The next morning brought another visitor from the academy, as did the next day, and the next. Each time they pleaded their case on the belief that they had finally found Jim alive in a hospital on the planet Bedua, and each time they had been maliciously turned away by the runner of the Inn.

Eventually, Silver had concluded that he would have to try and reason with Sarah.

Perhaps it was the fact that it tore him to pieces every time he had to fall asleep listening to her cry in the room across from his. Maybe it was simply because he wanted her to do what she could to finally make these men stop coming to the Benbow. Perhaps he had regained his desire for closure on a case he had come to believe would never fully receive a just answer, and maybe, just maybe, there was some hope left within Silver's heart that lead him to believe that perhaps Jim might still be alive, awaiting rescue from his internal, torturous prison of pain.

It was not until the final night of their long and gruesome week of badgering that Silver sat down with her in hopes that they might bring about a solution to this affair. With a long face, he addressed her as kindly as possible, in the most informal sense and the gentlest of tones which tenderly expressed his respect toward her as a single working woman, and his love for her as a close and generous friend. The topic was not easy, and the minuscule likelihood that Sarah would understand Silver's heartfelt intentions seemed scarce at best. Although his throat tightening by the minute and his mouth robbed of all moisture, Silver reasoned that if nothing was done about this, they would forever be haunted by the ghost of a memory, and the consistent badgering of the Interstellar Academy, until at last this young man, whoever he was, passed from existence and they were left once again asking answerless questions concerning themselves, their decisions, and most of all, Jim.

Yet before Silver could utter a single syllable, before he could even fully form a statement to introduce his plans to her...Sarah beat him to it.

"You're going to ask me to go to the Academy, aren't you?"

To Silver's great relief, there was no sharpness in her voice. Nor was there any sense of irritation or fury. It was a simple question that demanded a simple answer, yet despite the supposed simplicity the situation presented itself with, Silver found that he had once again fallen short of himself, for all of his words were lost before they reached his parched tongue. All he could do was nod his head and hope that that answer would be enough.

Sarah herself sighed. "John, if I could, I would."

Silver looked up, a whole new world of questions birthing in his mind.

"The truth is, John, if I had the courage and the strength as a mother to go to Bedua and see for myself whether or not this young man is or is not my son, I would. But...I don't. I don't have that strength left in me anymore. I can't bear another near miss. I can't bear to be disappointed." She paused for a moment to lean forward. Her face rested neatly in her hands, and for the first time in, Silver saw the effects of grief and age upon her beautiful face, and it saddened his heart. "And if it is Jim..." she started again, "I don't know if I could bear to see him in pain. And...it would kill me, John, if I had to watch him die." She shook her head mechanically, and her eyes had a distant glaze about them, as if she were suddenly lost in a very far away place. "When my husband left, Jim was all that I had. Without him, I don't know what I'd do. He was the only man that ever made me feel whole...does that sound strange?"

She lifted her heavy gaze up onto Silver and blinked. A tender smile caressed her face, and immediately the age lifted from her countenance. But there was still a small hint of that anguish hidden away in her eyes, and Silver knew that it would be kept there forever, no matter what came to pass from this day forward. That anguish, no matter how long she held it in, would never be erased.

"No," Silver admitted without a second thought to the idea. "No, it doesn't."

Sarah crossed her arms and pulled them up close to her chest as her eyes fell once again to the table before her. "It's so much easier, John, just to pretend that he's missing. To believe that he's still alive, somewhere, if not here. It's easier for me to go on."

Silver's gaze had also fallen, though for a different purpose. It seemed as though there would be no convincing her otherwise. Unless...

"Sarah?"

Sarah looked up. "Yes, John?"

"What if I went?"

The woman's countenance changed suddenly into a look of questioning and confusion. "What do you mean?"

He cleared his throat and shifted his weight forward. Silver felt he only had one chance to make this shot, and if he didn't aim just right the first time, he'd never get an opportunity at his objective again. "What if I went to Bedua? You know, to see if it was really Jim?"

Silver could already tell by the wrinkling of Sarah's nose that she was not eager to hear more about this plan. "I don't know John..." she started. "I know you care about Jim, but leading yourself on with this-"

"Just let me try!" he pleaded. "I know where Bedua is! If it's Jim, I'll know it in an instant! I can stay with him till he's well and then I can bring him home."

"And if he dies there, John?" cried Sarah in a sudden surge of fury. Her eyes were now brimming with tears, and Silver immediately began to feel guilty at ever having mentioned this. "What will you do? Idly sit at his bedside and watch as the pain and the poison and his injuries overcome him? Will you watch Jim succumb to that?"

A stream of air blew from Silver's nose as he considered this. "At least we would know, Sarah!"

Sarah rose from her seat, and for the first time, silenced Silver with a very intrusive glare. Jim had told him about that glare once, long ago. 'Boy was right,' he thought as he desperately battled with this woman's withering gaze. 'She could curdle milk with them eyes.'

"If you must, John," She stated at long last. "You're a grown man. You may do what you please." And with that cold note, she left him alone in the main dining room to file through his thoughts in a very unpleasant silence.

The sun had already risen by the time Silver was fully packed and prepared to leave.

He had made up his mind the moment he'd thought of it, really. But there was still a trace of doubt that lingered in his mind, like a wayward shadow that refused to depart. It gnawed away at his heart and soul, desperately attempting to crack his confidence and chain him here to the inn where he knew that disappointment beyond that which his heart could bear did not exist. The idea was more than tempting, and he feared that as he grabbed up his traveling bag that both his knees might give way at the dread of what he would find, or even what he would not find out there. Yet, for all his questioning, Silver had set himself in the belief that Jim was out there somewhere, and if his mother could not find him, for whatever reasons, he owed it to the lad to at least try himself.

Setting his hat firmly upon his head, Silver stepped out of his bedroom door. He stopped only once to knock upon Sarah's, but was disappointed when she did not answer. Sighing, Silver continued on down the stairs where B.E.N. sat waiting for him.

"What do yeh want?" he barked at the useless pile of tin. He did not spare the robot his own withering glare.

"I'm to give this to you," said B.E.N. with a quaking voice. He stepped forward and handed Silver a small envelope. "It's from Mrs. H!" he declared before stepping swiftly out of Silver's path. "She went to the Academy early this morning before you woke up. Told them that a man of your description would be going to Bedua to see if it was really Jimmy that they were holding at their hospital." He stopped, watching Silver's expression widen at this news. "She didn't give them your name."

Silver looked up at B.E.N. in amazement. "Miss Sarah did all that?"

The robot nodded briskly. "Probably why she didn't answer her door. She went out after you went to bed and just got back before you got up. She's mighty tired, Mr. Silver, sir."

Silver's jaw went slack at this information, and he drifted somewhere between anger and amazement at these words, mainly for Sarah's sudden hypocrisy, but at the same time he could not complain. She had bought him unquestioned passage to Bedua where he would hopefully find her son and perhaps even bring him home if his health allowed.

"Tell her I said thank you."

B.E.N nodded and watched as Silver exited the inn. Morph cooed questioningly behind him. B.E.N. merely shrugged.

It wasn't Silver's best interest to be traveling on one of the Interstellar Space ships, but his purse wasn't full enough to buy passage onto a Royal Steamer, and he had more sense then to take faith in an overcrowded tourist trailer: those small little box carts that were only slightly larger than a longboat, and could easily carry at least twenty passengers, though not comfortably; and if someone hadn't bathed in weeks it was unfortunately made known rather swiftly to those who shared the compartment with him.

Since he had only signed on as a temporary passenger, Silver was granted his own quarters. A meal schedule was given to him upon arrival, and the captain callously informed him that if he missed a meal, they would not compensate. Silver frowned at this. Whenever he'd been working as a cook, he'd always compensated for his sailors, even if he'd said that he wouldn't. But then Silver painfully remembered that this wasn't his ship. His rules didn't count for anything here, and he would have to take it as it was given to him. Unfortunately.

Sighing, Silver lazily waved away the captain's words as he continued to ramble on and on about arbitrary rules and punishments, and then something about pirates and yadda yadda yadda. He shut the door of his cabin behind him and meticulously unpacked a few of this things, and hiding the rest under his bed where he hoped no one would think to look carefully. As an old space dog himself, he knew that sometimes passengers and even the less respectable crew often took to plundering the cabins of passengers when they were out. Or perhaps, maybe Silver was just too used to working with the wrong kinds of people.

Not that it mattered anyway, he reminded himself. Silver wasn't here for the ride or the luxury. He was here because he needed to get to Bedua, and this had been the only ship leaving the Montressor space port for the next week that would be docking there. Silver had had no choice but to take it. Of course, right now Silver was wishing he had kept the longboat he'd commandeered from the Legacy those few years back. It would have made the trip much more enjoyable, if not faster. Not to mention less expensive.

Again he sighed and settled down on his bed, which Silver grudgingly discovered was rock hard. After a moment, he calmed his mind. Pressing his fingers together, he mulled over his plan once more. It would take two days for the ship to get to Bedua, in which time he would have to make due with his own nagging concerns. He would arrive at the planet and hopefully find this young man with no problem, where he would confront him on his claims of being Jim. After a day of probably checking out all that Bedua had to offer, he would head home and resume his life at Montressor.

Home? Silver frowned quizzically. Since when had he ever considered Montressor home? 'Come to think of it,' Silver thought, 'When have I ever considered anything home?'

Of course, he hadn't. Not even home had been home, really. Silver had had a mother and a father, and probably more than Jim had ever been given in his young life, but it had never really felt the way home was supposed to. His father had done a lot for him, and his mother had been a respectable woman who loved her son, but the truth was that he had felt it all to be a farce. Nothing seemed real, and so he had left, never to come back, and he never did. From that day on he had run away from himself and his home, working on ships and at inns much like the Benbow, earning a living however he could. Eventually he'd been lured into the call of piracy, and had stuck to it.

Now, after meeting Jim and his mother and living at the Benbow, Silver suddenly discovered what he'd been missing all along. And, just as suddenly, he'd labeled somewhere in the universe 'home'. It seemed so strange, and yet so natural. Happiness to Silver had once been defined by material possessions and comfortable lifestyles. The past few months had taught him the true side of happiness, but he had also discovered the true and painful measures of grief. The loss of life, the loss of family, the loss of dear and precious friends. And, of course, the true meaning of strength: the ability to continue on with life and recover from such losses. Such were the most important things in life, not gold and silver, but love and strength.

Yes, Silver realized that Montressor had indeed become home. He'd seen and felt so much there, and had unknowingly learned many important things. But most of all, he had found people that cared for him, and that unsubstitutable air of love that every proper home manifested, almost like magic.

'Yeah,' thought Silver as he lay down on his mercilessly stiff bed. He immediately missed his room back at the Benbow. 'if there was ever a place I could call home, that'd be it.'


	7. A New Quandary Arises

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Author's Response:

Lalalala/hello: Well I certainly am glad you're enjoying the story. I'm sorry to say this is a short update, but I do appreciate the reviews.

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Raine Ishida: Thank you so very much for your prayers. I believe they've been answered. I'm feeling much better now, and I think I'm ready to start writing again. Also, thank you for informing me of the errors in my last chapter. That actually happens when I go to edit with fanfiction's edit/preview feature. For some reason it doesn't register spaces very well. I will repost that chapter after I make those corrections. Thank you again, and I hope you enjoy the update!

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Moonfyre: I hope that you have/had a wonderful vacation! Thank you so much for all your reviews and I look forward to hearing more from you upon your return!

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Ausra Cerise: Thank you. I'm feeling much better. I hope you enjoy the update.

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Wolfarine Garoh: I agree with you completely. They left out a lot of Silver and Jim bonding, and it's still very disappointing even when I watch the movie now. I'm almost hoping they'll come out with a sequel, but at the same time I'm afraid they'd completely butcher my love for Treasure Planet afterward (like they did with Lady and the Tramp). Grrr. Anyway, I sincerely hope you enjoy.

Thank you all for your reviews,  
Ela,

Silver did not leave his quarters until nightfall, when he could be guaranteed a quiet smoke with no questions, and even fewer questioning gazes. (He could not afford being recognized by anyone who might still be aware of the fact that 'Long John Silver' was still out and about in the Etherium.)

Silver had taken to enjoying the nighttime hours when out in space. It was quiet and peaceful; the deepest sense of peace a person could get while alive, he believed. The absolute silence of it all, despite the vastness, gave him all the space he needed to think. The deep blue and violet hues that seemed painted into the surroundings was soothing to his soul, while the gentle flickering of stars reminded him of hope, and retold once more the tale of the grand beauty that existed around them. Wisps of titanic nebula clouds soared gently around them while the soft hush of their whispering winds could be heard even to Silver, who had only one functional ear. Of course, that wasn't all he was picking up. Somewhere off in the distance he could just hear the distinct lulling moans of Galaxy Orcas. Their song loosened the tension in Silver's muscles and calmed his nerves.

For the first time in weeks, he felt truly relaxed and at ease.

This, however, was brought to an abrupt end when he heard up above him the whispering of two young cadets. Silver peered up into the crow's nest and was relieved when he realized that they were not paying him any mind. In fact, they seemed deep in conversation about something. What it was, Silver wasn't certain, but he decided very quickly that if there were still people out here then it would be wise to return to his room.

But just as Silver stepped into the galley that would lead him into the bowels of the ship, he heard a very interesting bit of news that he could not dismiss easily. Someone had mentioned the R.L.S. Mars, which had been the ship that had gone down so many months ago near Salvus. The fact that these two young men were talking about it was most peculiar to Silver, since this was technically old news to anyone who had not been touched by the tragedy personally. Nevertheless, Silver was highly intrigued. He crept deep into the shadows and paid close attention to their words, determined to hear anything that might perhaps give him more answers.

"Well, you know what they're saying about it, don't you?" asked the older of the two cadets.

"No."

"Well, they're thinking that it wasn't the nebula that did it. At least, not all of it."

"You don't say!"

"Think about it! Why would a military spacing ship head straight into a nebula that strong?"

The younger cadet started to answer, but was immediately silenced. Apparently he could think of no reason.

"Exactly! They wouldn't! A captain would know better."

"So, what are you saying?"

"Well, they're thinking that the Protean Armada had something to do with it."

"What?"

"They were sailing out into uncharted territory, remember?"

"Yeah but they were having engine trouble. They had to make their way to the nearest planet."

"I thought they had some of those new trainees for that?"

"They did you idiot!" There was a definite sound of hand meeting flesh. Silver snickered. "But the cadets can only do so much."

"Yeah, but I thought Jim-"

"Even Jim Hawkins can only do so much, Percy!"

Silver smiled. Apparently Jim was well known amongst his peers as well.

"Yeah. Hey, what happened to him?"

"Never found him."

"That's too bad."

"Yeah."

There was a moment of silence between both young spacers before they went on.

"Anyway, they think that the Protean Armada snuck up on them. Blasted them into the nebula winds."

"But why?"

"It was a warning, they think. A warning to tell us that they're more powerful now. Some of the higher ups at the academy say that there's already been news of war."

"Wh-what?"

At these words, Silver left the deck and returned to his quarters. This new piece of information hit him hard, but also made him question. If this had been the case, why hadn't the Interstellar Navy said anything? Why would they keep such dire news a secret?

'Figures,' he thought as he pulled back the sheets of his bed and slipped in. 'Goes to show what use the government and military is.'

Silver stared up at the ceiling of his quarters, his brow creased in anger. If even a little of that story had been true, he couldn't begin to think about what it meant for Sarah. The fact that the academy had lied to her was...was...unthinkable! Silver snarled out of anger and had a good mind to punch his wall, when suddenly he felt something quiver violently under his sheets. Startled, Silver immediately rolled out of his bed and began to sift through his bed. He found nothing, and began immediately to dig through his pants pockets (he hadn't taken the time to change into pajamas). All Silver could find was his golden pocket watch. Frowning, he tossed it up in the air a few times, his frustration at the news he had just heard overhead now momentarily forgotten at the preface of his newfound situation.

"All right, Morphie," he sighed. "I found yeh out. Yeh don't have to hide on me no more."

Tossing the watch in the air one last time, Silver was not surprised when it began to hover on its own. The gold face and chain melted away to reveal a joyous pink blob with bright, eager eyes and a lolling, saliva drenched tongue. Silver chuckled while his old familiar friend nuzzled his face and cooed excitedly.

"Awww, Morphie, I sure am glad you're here."

Morph chirped and swirled into the image of Jim once more time. Apparently he had misinterpreted the reasoning behind their leaving.

Silver sighed sadly. He didn't have the heart to break Morph's, so all he could do was force a grin and pat the creature's head.

"Yeah, Morphie. We're gonna go find Jimbo."

Morph cooed and flipped in the air. Silver only shook his head. How disappointed Morph was going to be when he realized that there was no Jim to find.

At least, that was what Silver had told himself.


	8. An Impossible Reunion

**Lalalala:** Lol. Well since you insist on harrassing me, I suppose I'll update ahead of schedule once more. (wink) I'm glad you like this story. Please enjoy, and I look forward to your reviews, as always! (smile)

**Moonfyre:** I'm terribly sorry to hear that your vacation was a fiasco. Kick back with some warm tea and get some good reading in. Maybe that'll help. Warm baths are always good too. (smile) Please take care.

**Raine Ishida:** You know, I have no idea what's going on with fanfiction's editing system. These errors aren't in my chapter when I upload it, I promise. I think it's when I make the corrections on the website. I think this is the last chapter where I did that, but I'm pretty sure this chapter is safe. Thanks again for pointing that out.

* * *

Silver happily left the company of the crew and passengers of his ship when they docked at Bedua. After two days he'd finally been fed up with the rudeness of the crew, the arrogance of the captain, and the inadequacies of their entire operating system. How a fool the likes of such a man had ever advanced to the rank of Captain, Silver would never understand. If he had had more time he would have probably sat the officer down and given him a talking to, but the circumstances at hand would provide for no such opportunity.

With Morph at his side and his satchel in his hand, Silver made his way quickly away from the docks and sought out the hospital. Of course, this task might have been simpler if all the buildings didn't look alike! Frustrated, Silver looked from side to side, up and down the main roads and back alleys.

"Are none of these streets labeled?" he grumbled to Morph as they continued their way through the labyrinth of nameless dirt roads. His cyborg eye, now reddening with anger, snapped to and fro in an attempt to find his destination. When he still found nothing, his frustration grew even more. "Or any of these buildings, for that matter? And have they ever heard of color?"

It was unfortunately true. Everything seemed a dingy shade of brown, including the haze that surrounded the streets and the planet's sun.

"I wouldn't be surprised if the kid was dead by now, as filthy as this place is!" Morph stopped and cooed, staring questioningly after his master as he stormed through the muddy streets of Bedua's most populated city. "C'mon Morph!" he hollered after the shape shifter. "Better try and find that hospital before we need it ourselves."

Another hour of wandering had Silver's blood pressure nearly sky high (his face now nearly matched the hue of his cyborg eye). He was beginning to consider just quitting and trying to find it tomorrow when Morph erupted in a chorus of festive chirps and coos. Silver glanced in the creature's direction questioningly, his face growing long as he watched his only companion hover further and further away from him in a swift, daring motion.

"Morphie! Get back here!" he growled. When the creature did not return, Silver sighed and followed after him, swimming through the throngs of alienoids and grumbling all the way. "Blasted little...I swear I'll...this had better...arrrg...MORPH!"

A familiar chirp caught his attention off to the left, and he turned his gaze to find the blasted little critter dancing spasmodically around a small, but neatly printed wooden sign that read: HOSPITAL. Silver's lower lip jutted out in annoyance as he glared reproachfully at the wooden sign.

"Yeah, yeah, good job, Morph," the cyborg grumbled as he scooped his pet up in his hands. He refused to admit that they'd passed this place several times. Thankfully, Morph was unable to talk, and therefore unable to rub it in his face ever reddening.

Silver had never been so glad to have a mute companion.

When he approached the desk at the end of the lobby, a tiny young human woman behind it glanced up and gasped. Apparently, she had never seen someone of such...well, she had never seen somebody like Silver before.

"I'm here to see someone," he said as nicely as possible (He was still fuming over the quest for the hospital). "Can you help me, ma'am?"

"Who are you here to see, sir?" Her voice quivered.

"Someone claiming to be Jim Hawkins."

The woman's brow raised happily. "Oh! You must be Mr. Silver!"

He frowned. "Yes," he admitted. "How did you-"

"The academy called." She grinned brightly. "They said to expect you."

"Oh." That's right, Silver thought as the woman prepared a mass of paperwork. Sarah had informed them that he would be visiting. "So, can I see him?"

"Just a moment. We need you to sign a few things."

Silver sighed. He hated paperwork of any sort, and the idea of signing his name gave him the distinct feeling of signing away a part of himself. If nothing else, he was well aware of the fact that he was giving the hospital distinct proof that he had been here. A perfect record if the authorities would ever become increasingly hot on his trail again. He cursed himself and prepared himself to sign anyway, knowing that there would be no other way to settle this.

She handed him a stack of neat white sheets and a pen. "Take your time sir."

Nodding his appreciation, Silver shifted through some of the paper. He was rather impressed to find that they had this young man's entire medical record here in these few little bits of paper, even documentation of his periods of consciousness and what he had been able to tell them. This he poured over a little more carefully. Surely if this person was Jim there were a few things that he would have gotten wrong here. Grinning, Silver began to read:

September 15th, subject awakened at 10:25am. Gave the following information:  
Name: Hawkins, James Pleiades  
Date of Birth: October 29th, 1626  
Age: 17  
Home Planet: Montressor  
Mother: Sarah Ann Hawkins  
Father: John Silver

Silver stopped his reading at that very last line. Why was he listed as this young man's father? Who would have know that Jim had even met Silver before? His first thought was to ask the nurse about it, but he immediately realized the folly of such an action and stopped himself. Instead, he signed the papers as directed and delivered them back to the nurse when he had finished.

"This way sir," the nurse declared. Silver, his mind still buzzing with questions, halfheartedly followed with Morph trailing behind him. She opened the nearest door and directed him to the very last bed nearest the window. He thanked her sincerely with a bow and began to make his first steps toward the bed...

* * *

Much to Silver's relief, the nurse had closed the door behind him. This gave him the opportunity to creep slowly toward the bed, for he wasn't prepared to approach it immediately. Ideas and temptations began to sift through Silver's already heavily laden mind. He first thought to interrogate the young man, asking him how he knew all about Jim and what he had heard about John Silver. His second thought was to ask no questions at all and to simply throttle the boy in his sleep for ever daring to toy with his and Sarah's hopes of finding Jim. There were other thoughts and desire that followed, each more gruesome and less rational then the first, yet somehow Silver managed to keep his twitching hands at his side as he passed the second to last bed and inched closer and closer to the one that held the young man who had started all of this. Stopping to allow himself one last, calmed breath, Silver prepared himself for the most devastating disappointment of his life. 

He stepped forward, pulled back the curtain that divided this bed from the rest of the room...  
...and nearly vomited.

There were burns up and down almost the entire left side of his body. Burns so severe that Silver's mouth hung agape for many moments just to take in the audacity of the image before him. It had eaten away at least several layers of skin, and even with all the obvious medications that had been applied to it, Silver knew right then and there that they would never fully heal. Those wounds would eternally linger upon that body until its last days. He could see also that some of the hair on his head had burned away, though in the few months time that he had been here it had begun to grow back. Someone had apparently taken the effort of evening it all out for him as well, though it did little to improve his ghastly appearance. His eyes were swollen and sunken in, and the once strong frame of a youthful body had become waxen and waned. His breathing was shallow, and a cough often erupted from his dry and cracked lips.

Upon seeing all of this, Silver only just noticed after taking into account all of these injuries, that the young man lying in the bed before him was no imposter. It was Jim, or instead, what was left of him. The young boy that he had met two years ago on the Legacy; the young boy that had saved his life twice and had grown rather quickly into a young man that had made Silver proud; the young man that had become one of the top students at the Interstellar Academy, and yet still remained in close contact with a dear friend who was known to be a pirate and could only be defined by society as a ne'er-do-well, was now the young man lying helplessly here in a hospital bed on some forsaken planet, fighting for his life against injuries the like Silver had never seen before.

And in the twinkling of an eye, Silver's heart broke.

He took a step backward, allowing the curtain to close on that horrible image for a slight moment so that he might regain himself.

'Pull it together John,' he started to tell himself. 'You knew it might be like this.'

But the truth was, he hadn't. He hadn't expected to find Jim at all! Once he had left Montressor, Silver had resolved himself against the idea of ever seeing Jim again. For good. He had come here to set an imposter and the academy straight once and for all. Silver and Sarah had wanted nothing more to do with it, with any of it. They simply wanted to be left alone. That was all.

But here he was now, staring down upon the broken body of a young boy whom he had loved as a son, and finding himself utterly inadequate in ways he had never known before. And as if to prove some meager point he could suddenly hear Sarah's words ringing in his ears like the seven trumpets that announced the end of time -- _"And if he dies there, John? What will you do? Idly sit at his bedside and watch as the pain and the poison and his injuries overcome him? Will you watch Jim succumb to that?"_

Silver shook his head. Curse her, she had been right. There was no way he could do that. It was too painful.

'But you can't leave him here to die alone,' said his brain. 'It will hurt you, but it's not fair to him. Someone has to be here for him.'

Morph cooed quietly and nestled himself against Jim's chest. He seemed to take comfort in the beating of his young master's heart, and cooed calmly once more, nestling his head down in the hospital shirt that poorly covered the young boy's wounds.

Sighing, Silver knew that even if he wanted to leave, his tiny little friend might now allow him to. Shakily, he nestled himself into a nearby chair and gently took Jim's hand in his own. Immediately, he began to plan a long and detailed letter to Sarah that he would most likely start tonight.

* * *

Jim was lost in dreams: a flurry of panoramic, confused images that had no tie to each other. The only coherent thing in his mind was a lullaby that he could recall his mother singing to him when he had been young. He first recalled her singing it the day his father had left, and she had sang it often from that point on. For some reason, he was hearing it again now in his dream. 

'I sleep all day. What makes me feel this way?'

Images from his young childhood suddenly flew by his unwaking eyes. Days where he and his mother had played after the patrons of the inn had long since vanished into the night or into the solace of their rooms.

'Everything's a bust. And everything keeps losing my trust.'

He saw his mother holding him at eleven years old; crying into his shoulder and promising that she would always and forever love him and be there for him no matter what. The day his father had left them for good.

'Where do we begin with this unhappy ending?'

He saw himself in school, getting pushed around and made fun of for not having a dad. Running away from the playgrounds in the daytime to come crying into his mother's arms at home, telling her everything the kids had done to him.

'Where do we begin after all that's been done?'

Jim going back the next day and beating all of them up. Jim getting sent home; his mother being so disappointed in him.

'And how do we begin to say: I forgive you?'

He saw himself goofing off in school, when had finally begun to fall behind in his studies. Jim recalled that time well. It was when he had finally given up on a future he had believed not worth striving for.

'And how do we begin to repair this family affair?'

His mother, holding him late one night during a really bad rain storm. Her careworn face nestled comfortably against his head, which was hidden deep in her arms out of fear.

'I think about the never ending way that my day never seems to want to end,'

His mother working hard to keep the Benbow afloat while he goofed off and wreaked havoc elsewhere.

'I think about the loneliness of losing a friend.'

Silver reaching out for him, trying to save him from a fall that would surely end his life.

'Don't take it away from me. Don't take away the one love that matters.'

A new image: his mother weeping at a nameless grave. A large, looming figure at her side.

'And I'll get well, you'll see. You're all I have; you're my family.'

Jim, his mother Sarah, Silver, Morph and B.E.N. sitting around the family table, eating and talking and laughing merrily.

'Is there ever enough love? Ever enough?'

His mother and Silver.

'Where do we begin picking up the pieces?'

His mother again at a nameless grave, but this time the figure was more identifiable. Could it be who he thought it was?

'Where do we begin after all that's been said?'

"I just don't want to see you throw away you're entire future!"  
"Yeah, what future?"

'And how do we begin to say: I still love you?'

His mother and Silver again, a sly smile being cast between the two of them. Jim standing on the sidelines, watching with amazement.

'And how do we begin to repair this family affair?'

All three of them sitting together, as though it were one big family portrait. Then, suddenly darkness. But the words continued on.

'Don't take it away from me. Don't take away the one love that matters. And we'll all get well, you'll see. We're all we have, we're a family...'

* * *

Aside from the unfamiliar weight upon his chest, Jim became oddly aware of a presence at the side of his bed. Naturally, his first instincts told him that it was either a doctor or a nurse, but as he waited he found that they did not leave. Quite the contrary, this person seemed quite decided on staying for some time. 

A pair of very strange hands suddenly took one of his up and held it gently. Had Jim not been in so much pain, he might have jumped from surprise. One was obviously flesh and bone because it was warm and strong. The other, however, was cold and deformed. It was though it were made of...dare he say it? Metal?

'No!' Jim thought as his heart pounded in his chest. 'It couldn't be! There's no way!'

A chirp rang in his ears, a most familiar and welcome voice. It was all the proof he needed.

Jim opened his eyes and turned his head.

"Silver?"

The cyborg looked up, his own eyes growing wider with astonishment.

"Jimbo?"

* * *

_Song lyrics from "Family Affair" by Abra Moore._


	9. Awake At Last

_Okay guys, this is chapter 9, and also the last chapter that I have written up to now. College starts for me on Monday, so my update speed is most likely going to slow dramatically. For any news concerning...anything, please feel free to visit my livejournal which is the website link on my bio page. Thank you so very much everyone for your reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter. (hugs to you all) Take care and please review!_

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The next few days offered very little sleep to Silver. Not that he would have been able to get much rest anyway. Between Jim and doing his best to work on a letter to write to Sarah, Silver's mind was absolutely buzzing with concern and questions for his young, maltreated friend who, although had been no more than a few inches away from him for the past seventy two hours, had barely been able to get two words out of each time he awoke. The truth was, Jim was in no better condition now then he had been upon his arrival at Bedua. Other then the fact that he was experiencing bits and pieces of consciousness, he was still severely injured and showing no signs of improvement. It worried the old cyborg greatly to see him like this. He knew Jim was strong; a determined young man that always strove past his troubles to move beyond and grow off of them. However, what Silver saw now was not the young man he had left behind. 

The Jim that lay before him was helpless and alone. He was weakened, confused, and vulnerable. The cherished youthful demeanor had vanished, and was replaced by the shadow left by death and despair. It was a transformation that Silver saw too often among old space dogs, both honest and dishonest alike, and he knew that there was no reversing that transformation. The shadow of these memories would haunt Jim for the rest of his days, regardless of how many of them he had left.

Sighing, Silver looked up to gaze at the wane face of his dear friend and realized that in a sense, Jim _had _died out there, for there would be no regaining that young man of the past. He had vanished amidst the stars and planets of deep space, leaving behind the empty shell of a scarred and battered body, betraying the hopes of those that had loved him.

Silver shifted his weight in his seat and leaned back, taking in the full image that was Jim. Were it not for the burns upon his face and arm, it would have been believable that the young man was merely sleeping. His face was amazingly relaxed, and he made absolutely no motions that might have indicated discomfort. Sunlight was trickling in from a window nestled in the upper corner of the room, dancing hypnotically over Jim's still soft features and warming his pale face, somehow managing to give it a slight sense of vigor. Jim's head was resting upright in an overstuffed feather pillow; his arms rested comfortably at each side while his closed eyes gazed upward into some mysterious dreams that Silver could only imagine were filled with anything but pain and great distances between him and home.

He sighed again and began to rub his tired eyes. The urge to sleep often welled up strong inside of him, but he was often able to push it away. The thought of being asleep if Jim needed him usually scared Silver into consciousness quicker than any nurse's tender pushing hand or any doctor's sharp interjections concerning his own health. He was too stubborn to worry about that, especially when Jim was in such deplorable condition. Sleep, however, found its way of sneaking up on him in the middle of the night and early in the morning. Like now, when the hospital was least active. Silver would often catch himself snoozing in his chair during these times: short naps that would range anywhere from fifteen minutes to a few hours. He had tried to refrain from doing this, but since Silver was only a man, he could only to so much, no matter how hard he pushed.

As for Jim's internal clock, the lad seemed to prefer waking up well around nine AM and twelve in the afternoon. Then on occasion he would wake up once more in the evening before falling back to sleep. Each time he would peer over at Silver and smile as though doing his best to reassure his old friend that he was all right. Or, perhaps he was just happy a familiar face was with him now. Regardless, Silver had vowed that he would not leave Jim's bedside lest it were truly necessary, and sleep had not fallen under that necessity.

Nevertheless, seventy two hours of sleepless nights caught up with him. Silver was getting worse day by day, and eventually the doctors had taken to pleading with him to get some sleep.

"Sir, you'll be no good to your son if you're hospitalized as well."

"I'll be fine."

"Sir, please --"

"Leave me be!"

Needless to say, his temper had grown as foul as the odor that crept from the street and through the windows in the few days time he had been in Bedua. Even his patience with Jim were often shown to be running thin. There were times when he just wished the boy would wake up so he could take him home. He wanted to be out of this hospital and away from this accursed planet. Morph seemed to have a similar attitude as his master, but had proved to be the cheerier of the two of them by chirping whenever Jim awoke, and cooing whenever Silver seemed to be reaching the peak of his temper. The little metamorph did what he could to keep both of his masters comfortable, and Silver inwardly had to admit that he was grateful for the creature's company and well intended efforts. But the truth was that Silver was angry, and worried. He had hoped that somehow with his presence Jim would miraculously and unexplainably improve, and that they would be able to go home and put this all behind them.

When that hadn't happened, Silver had not only realized with a foot-in-the-gut relation that this would not happen, but began to understand that with the severity of everything they had all been presented with, this would never be put behind them. He would have to see Jim the rest of his days as a disfigured youth who would most likely toss all dreams of traveling the Etherium to the winds, spending the rest of his days hidden away in the shelter of his home until at last he became nothing more than what his mother and Silver were.

And just like that, so many dreams and hopes and aspirations had been shot down out of the air like stars in the sky.

Breathing yet another sigh, Silver allowed his head to slump into his hands while his elbows rested upon his knees. Sarah had been right. He'd come here to do nothing else but watch Jim die most likely. If not physically, then in every other way known to man. Jim's spirit had already gone, and eventually so would his heart. Soon there would be nothing left but a hollow body...and that was if fate would grant Silver and Sarah some form of mercy. Suddenly, Silver snorted at the idea. Mercy? What mercy was there in taking everything that made someone who they were? For all Silver could say, Jim might as well have died. He had in every other way.

No sooner had Silver thought it did Jim begin to shudder violently in his bed. The cyborg looked up, not quite certain what this meant. Morph had begun to coo rapidly in midair, twirling and loopty-looping like a crazed insect.

"What's happening?" he asked, though hardly expected an answer from the creature.

The shuddering turned into convulsing, and Silver knew suddenly that whatever was going on, he couldn't do anything about it. He scurried out of the door of the room and immediately began hollering for assistance.

* * *

Silver sat with a long face at Jim's bedside. After three hours of being forced to wait in the lobby, he had finally been allowed to rejoin the young man at his side. 

After the seizure, the nurses and doctor in charge had decided to move Jim into his own room. It made Silver much more comfortable because it offered a greater deal of privacy to the both of him, but he was still highly uncomfortable with being in here alone. No one had explained what had made Jim's health suddenly plummet and caused him to go into such a set of violent convulsions. The nurses had reassured him that it had been nothing but a small allergic reaction to some of the medication. When he asked if it had ever happened before, Silver received no answer.

He hadn't counted on his worry increasing tenfold in the last few hours today, but suddenly it had. Circumstances being what they were, he wasn't so certain that he could last much longer in this place, and if Jim didn't start getting better he'd soon waste away here. They'd both waste away.

Frowning, Silver removed both his hat and his bandana and took a short walk to the wall where he opened the window to get some fresh air. Morph chirped questioningly, but Silver didn't pay him any attention. Instead, he watched the residents of Bedua pass by underneath his nose, all of whom were perfectly clueless to his dilemma. The heat was stifling, even to Silver, who had endured many harsh climates, but there was a slight breeze that did manage to reach his blistering skin. Sighing, he reached heavily for his hat and began to walk toward the door. Morph chirped accusingly.

"I'll be back, Morphie," Silver argued, slightly upset that the creature would even consider the possibility of him abandoning Jim. "I'm just gonna be out for a few minutes."

* * *

Dear Sarah;  
By now I'm sure that you're aware I have reached Bedua. I simply want you to know that Jim is here, and though his health is questionable, I have faith that he'll pull through. I will write you if anything changes, and I will write you also before we head back to Montressor.

Your Friend.,  
Silver

He read and reread the letter over and over again until at last he decided that he had no choice but to sent it. Despite the fact that he did not really have much faith in the improvement of Jim's health, Silver very much lacked the heart to say so. He held his breath and handed the envelope over the mail carrier.

"Thank you sir," the alien greeted nasally. "Your letter will be received within three to five days. Would you like your package to be insured."

"No."

"Thank you for your business sir. We hope to do business with you again."

"Yeah..." Silver muttered as he walked out the door. "Whatever you say."

* * *

With his head rested against the door, Silver prepared himself to enter the hospital room again. Steadying his breathing and wiping away the beads of sweat that were now forming on his temple, he took one sharp intake of air and turned the knob of the door. 

"Morph?" he called, but to his surprise found that his little friend was not alone.

Sitting propped up on a compilation of pillows and smiling brightly was Jim, fully awake and responsive.

"Good morning," he greeted as casually as though they had just met at the dining table at the Benbow.

"I..." Silver was rendered speechless. All he could do was stare on in amazement at the image before him.

Jim grinned. "Get lost?"

"...Jim?"

His smile widened.

Silver stepped to the edge of the bed, and without a second thought wrapped his young friend in a warm but gentle embrace.

Suddenly, everything looked like it was going to be okay.


	10. No More Trouble

Wow-o-wow! Man, the last few weeks have been busy! Between college and, well, more college, and chores...and a few other things like...oh I don't know...well I've been busy! And on top of that I've been really tired. Oh, and I got my driver's license! So stay off the roads for anyone in the Chicago-land area! Bwahaha. Ah well. Anyway, here's an update. I know Lala (you don't mind if I shorten it to just that do you, dear?) has been ever so patient and I am very grateful. So to award her excellent fortitude, as well as everyone else's, here is chapter ten! Enjoy! (falls asleep)

* * *

Silver was rudely jolted awake by the harsh thumping of a cane against his shin. Looking up while trying to wipe away what he hoped was an inconspicuous trace of drool on his chin, Silver found a grinning Jim Hawkins staring down at him. The sly smirk had returned to his scarred features he realized, as well as the invigorating light of youth newly stimulated in his eyes at the thought of finally heading home. 

"Hey," Jim said with a wide smile and rather robust laugh. "You ready?"

Against his yawn all Silver could do was nod his head as he ushered Jim out the door. One of the nurses bid them goodbye as they left, and neither Jim or Silver hesitated to show their excitement of being rid of the place forever. As one they stepped outside into the polluted streets of Bedua and started immediately toward the ship docks.

"How much did it cost you to get these tickets?" Jim asked as he looked down at his own tentatively once Silver had handed it to him.

"Don't worry about it," Silver stated with a smile. "It wasn't nothing I couldn't afford."

"Yeah, but..." Jim looked skeptical. "I'll pay you back when we get home."

"I'll have none of it!" Silver guffawed, resting a hand upon the young boy's shoulders. "I told you, Jimbo, not to worry about it."

"But..."

The cyborg raised a finger at the boy's face and eyed him dangerously, or at least attempted to. "I told you I'll have none of it!"

Although he saw directly through the faux pas, Jim could only grin in the face of such a useless thread. He boarded the ship with Silver in his shadow while tacitly forming a plan in which he could get Silver back for his seemingly endless favors. He knew better than to believe that Silver had as much money as he boasted when Jim protested any of his help, and knew also that the cyborg was too proud to admit that he'd most definitely be in a financial rut at the end of all of this. (His friend's unsubstantiated threats were proof of this theory as far as Jim was concerned.)

"No luggage?" asked one of the crew members with a skeptical up-and-down inspection of the odd pair as they came aboard.

"Nothing," came Silver before Jim could even fully register the sentence. "We'll be making our way to our room now if you don't mind. When's lunch?"

"At thirteen hundred hours, sir."

Silver nodded his thanks and together they made their way into the corridors of the ship.

All Jim could think of as they navigated their way down the long, decorative corridors was how impressive everything was compared to the last ship he was on. That thought, however, did not last long as painful memories of old friends and respected professors began to pour over his mind. People that were no doubt lost forever. Wincing, Jim sighed and allowed his gaze to hang slightly lower in hopes of drowning out the images, and not attracting his large companion's attention.

He was awoken from his dark day dreaming, however, by Silver's thunderous cry of triumph after having finally found their cabin.

"Here it is!" he grumbled as he toggled the lock and key together. "Finally!"

Jim grinned and shook his head. There was no end to the amusement Silver could provide for the young man. Even now in a moment of heightened frustration ("The key isn't working! I swear, ships these days don't run like they used to!") Jim found himself desperately fighting a wave of laughter that grew from the pit of his stomach and had to be silenced behind clenched teeth and a strained tongue.

"Let me," said Jim after a few more minutes of Silver cursing and grunting against the door.

"No need, Jimbo, I'll get it."

"Yeah but you're drawing attention."

At these words Silver frowned and peered down both sides of the corridor. He had indeed drawn a great deal of attention to the duo. People were peering hesitantly from behind their opened cabin doors, while waiters and crewman glanced questioningly over their shoulders at the upheaval this strange, large man was creating.

Grumbling, Silver handed Jim the key. Not a second later they were inside their cabin: Silver looking crestfallen, and Jim looking amused. Morph, now flying freely around the room, chirped happily at their new surroundings.

"Well, seems he likes it," Jim said with a chuckle as Morph nestled upon his extended forefinger.

"Yeah..." the cyborg grumbled. "Bit _too_ fancy if you ask me."

"Don't worry. I'm paying you back."

The cyborg cast his gleaming red mechanical eye in Jim's direction. "I told you..."

"I know what you told me," Jim said with a wave of his hand. "But since when have I ever really listened?"

Silver stopped to consider these words with a broad grin. While rubbing the back of his neck, he stood silently and considered his friend while Jim in turn played with Morph. 'Suren that boy can get himself in some trouble at times,' Silver thought to himself with a fond gaze settled upon his companion. 'Blast me, though, if he'll be gettin' into anymore with me around.'

Jim, noting his friend's expression, frowned.

"Hey, you okay?"

Silver, now pulled from his thoughts, looked up and laughed heartily. "Yep. Everything's just fine Jimbo." He turned to head into the joining room, his smile never fading. "Everything's just fine."

* * *

Okay...so yes, this is very short. But from the need to do homework, the broken air conditioner, the need to sleep, and the incessant burning feeling I have going through the back of my left hand (I've got to be getting carpel tunnel there's no other explanation for it) I really need to cut this short. But don't fear! Tuesday's and Thursday's I have three hour waits between my two classes. I'll be writing on paper and transferring it to the computer on weekends. If this works out I'll have at least one chapter a week up for you guys, okay? (hugs to you all) Take care everyone! And please, give a new and disgruntled college student some reviews? Pweese!


	11. More Trouble

Well, seeing as to I somehow got myself grounded today (don't ask...please for the love of everything holy don't ask)...I found some time to actually do some writing. Go figure. Anyway, I do realize that some questions are formulating by everyone here, and that's totally understandable. As a fanfiction writer however, and a busy one at that (smiles) please understand that I'll have some errors, typos, and some things that just are left unexplained. I'll try my best to not allow this to happen, but if it does happen please forgive me.

I am sorry, for both the long wait and my mood as of late. I'm tired, and my family isn't letting off of me. At this point it's going to take a while for me to be able to do anything anymore. (headdesk) I'm sorry.

P.s. I'm sorry, Lala, for worrying you. (hugs)

* * *

Although Jim was happy to be heading home, he wasn't so certain if his quick flight from the hospital at Bedua had been the wisest decision. True, he had been eager to leave, as had Silver. It was also true that Jim had been feeling much better after finally being able to stay conscious for more than a few hours his last week there. However, Jim was still far from fully recovered. During the day his pain was not as bad since there were things to distract his attention and his focus. At night, however, as he lay in bed within the dark confines his room staring at the ceiling, the full coursings of true agony began to flow through his beaten body once more.

Unfortunately, the medication he had been given from Bedua after being signed out did very little to quell the pain. The nurses had informed him that it would be a weak prescription, and though it would be tempting, he could not under any circumstances take more than the doctors had required of him. The results, he had been told, could be deadly.

It was all Jim could do now, however, to keep from crying out in pain and reaching forward to ingest that entire capsule full of medicine. He wanted to scream, but could not. After all, Jim didn't want to worry Silver. The old cyborg had done enough of that the past few weeks he'd been at Jim's side. The young man was determined that if he could not get rid of his pain, he would at least quell his friend's fears.

This, however, was proving to be more difficult than Jim had anticipated.

Even though he had been released, the wounds on his face and arm had not been completely healed over. The initial openings from the more severe wounds had been sealed up by stitching and time, but there was still a great deal of poison and infectious hazardous material that still existed in finer amounts throughout his body. The poison and toxins that the doctors had not been able to remove now burned at his flesh from the inside, and his bones felt as though someone were running sandpaper over them. Every synapse in Jim's brain screamed to just end the pain now, whatever way possible, but Jim's own conscious demanded that he maintain control over himself. Somehow.

Instructors at the academy would often teach students to will pain away with just the power of their mind. It was impossible of course to do so completely, and in more severe cases there was in truth very little that a person could do. Tolerance of pain and endurance were taught and encouraged, but never exercised.

"Damn them," Jim thought as he curled into a small ball in his bed. Had he ever known that things like this could have happened to him he would have never even gone to the academy. Things like this weren't supposed to happen on sabbatical! The safety of the students was supposed to be guaranteed in all ways possible. How, then had this happened?

Jim had never been aware of anything that fateful night on the R.L.S. Mars. He'd been sleeping when the crew on deck had started to scream warnings and curse the Royal Navy they had signed on with. Something, somewhere, had obviously gone wrong. But whatever it was, it remained a mystery to this day. Upon waking, Jim had felt enough heat within the darkness of the bunk room to understand well enough what was happening. He'd sounded the alarm and suddenly everything around him had exploded in an ear splitting shriek of wind. The ship had been destroyed and Jim had been cast through the Etherium faster then his mind could comprehend. Then there had been nothing but burning. Horrible burning as his skin was barraged with dust and fast moving winds that were heated to a new degree of white hot pain that did not seem possible. He had tried to take in air, but instead his lungs had been filled with the gases emitted from the nearby nebula. Coughing and gagging, Jim had drifted willingly into a darkness that he had never expected to wake from.

Yet here was now, alive, which was probably better then what many of his comrades had ended up. Perhaps. He was, at least now, on his way home. Soon he'd be able to see his mother and enjoy B.E.N.'s company once again. He'd be able to enjoy the warm coziness of a room that was forever his, and relax in the only environment that had ever really seemed like home.

Surely nothing could take that away from him?

Jim's chest suddenly heaved. Leaning over his bed he began to cough and spasm. The fit lasted for several minutes, leaving Jim utterly exhausted at the end. His exhaustion was forgotten swiftly, however, when he pulled his hand away from his mouth. A thick, warm liquid had drenched his pajama sleeve and palm, running slowly through his fingers and falling in small droplets to the floor below...

...it was blood.

* * *

Contrary to Jim's beliefs, Silver was wide awake in his room, and had been for some time. 

The cyborg cringed each time he heard Jim groan from the other room, and it took everything inside of him not to rush to his young friend's side whenever he became overwhelmed with violent coughing fits. He knew better than to believe that it was just perhaps a cold coming over the lad. That would have been too much of a blessing considering...

Sighing, Silver winced as Jim hacked up what sounded like some vital organ, then listening with concern as his bare feet pounded into the bathroom and the water began to run.

"This was a bad idea," Silver reasoned to himself out loud. "The lad's in no shape to be out and about. We should have never left Bedua."

Silver sighed once more, listening as Jim made his way back to his bed. The springs screamed as Jim threw his weight carelessly on to his mattress. Within seconds he was sleeping. Silver was thankful for that at least, but his worries did not calm, and it was many hours before he finally fell asleep.

Yet morning came all too soon, and Silver found himself grudging fate to have woken him up at all when the only thing he wanted to do was sleep forever. Exhaustion was certainly pressing the cyborg down after his few weeks in that hospital at Jim's bedside, and it seemed that nothing had improved even now.

Grumbling, Silver pulled himself out of bed and poked his head into Jim's room. He sighed in relief to find that the boy was sleeping soundly, or as soundly as could be expected in his condition. With a yawn and a hand through his mess of hair, Silver stepped outside to get some air and see what was on the menu for that morning.

* * *

Groaning, Jim slipped out of bed the minute he was certain Silver was a good distance away from the room. It had taken everything inside of him to maintain such a calm, restful expression despite the spasms of pain that plagued his frame. He groped desperately until at last his haphazard path had lead him to the bathroom where he quickly heaved a great many number of fluids into the toilet. After flushing it he brushed his teeth, cleaned his shirt (except for the dried blood on his sleeve) and changed into a clean pair of clothes. Jim inwardly thanked the hospitality of the residents at the Bedua clinic for donating clothes to him for his trip home. It certainly was nice not having to wear the same thing for the next few days until he made it home. 

If he made it home.

Shuddering, Jim bit his lip in hopes to quell another threatening wave of illness just in time for Silver to reenter the room.

"Hey Jimbo!" He greeted in a jovialness that was obviously forced. "How you feelin'?"

Jim forced an equally jovial smile and turned to face Silver. "Not too bad," he lied. Suddenly, Jim noticed the small package wrapped and tucked beneath Silver's right arm. "What's that?"

"Oh. I uh...took a few things from the kitchen."

Jim raised an eyebrow and stared his friend down. "You stole food?"

"Not stole!" Silver hastily, but unconvincingly interjected. "I just took a few liberties to...um..."

The young man grinned and shook his head. "You stole it."

"Well I...I...you..." Silver's face flushed suddenly. "Well it's not like they're not thieves! You know how much this room cost?"

"I said I'd pay you back!" Jim argued.

Silver frowned. That really hadn't been the response he'd wanted from Jim, but at the present time it was little of his concern.

"And I said don't worry about it," Silver argued back in a tone that ended the conversation once and for all. "Here, eat something." Opening the package, Silver tossed Jim a loaf of bread and some cheese. "It ain't much, but it'll do you over for now. I don't imagine your appetite's returned yet."

Jim sighed, then thanked Silver for his kindness while trying to force down a few bites of stale bread and smelly cheese. Silver made no point to observe his young friend, and instead made his way to his room where he hoped to be able to finally get some rest now that Jim was up and better. Perhaps, also, to pour over some of his current plans to get back to Montressor without inflicting too much trauma upon Jim. He waved his mechanical hand and closed the door swiftly behind him.

And without a second thought he lay down on his bed and fell asleep.

* * *

It was very late in the evening when Silver awoke once more. He was utterly amazed at himself for having slept so long, yet cursed himself for doing so as well. Silver hadn't even intended on falling asleep, in truth, but it had happened nonetheless. 

Now, with the day being shot, Silver wondered how Jim had faired. He checked in on the lad in his own room, and was relieved to find that he was sleeping soundly.

With a hesitant sigh, Silver wiped some sweat from his brow and stepped outside of the room into the corridor.

Then, without warning, the ship lurched violently to one side. Ironically enough, it sent him sprawling directly back into his room, through the door into Jim's room, and had him lying halfway between the wall and the floor. Jim, who had been tossed with an equal force from his own bed now pulled himself up to peer questioningly at Silver.

"What the hell was that?" he yelled over the terrified screams that now rose from the corridor.

"Beats me," Silver commented, slowly helping Jim to his feet. "Stay here, I'll go find out." And with that Silver ran from the room and through the halls to the deck above...

...only to find the most horrifying sight of his life.

* * *

Oh dear, what have I done? Besides leave a tremendous cliffhanger? Bwahahahahahahaha! I'm so evil.

So sorry for the long wait. Thank you in advance for your reviews. Take care and many hugs to you all! (sneezes) And now...ON TO PSYCHOLOGY CLASS! The class where everyday you walk out with a new self-diagnosis of a mental disorder! (smiles)


	12. Hail Storm

_Greetings everyone! Yes, it's been a while and I am terribly sorry for the tremendous wait. I hope I haven't lost any of you. School was very, very busy and I hadn't had much time to sit down and write, so for the next few weeks (that I have off! Yeah!) I'm going to try and catch up a bit on this story. Unfortunately I have no recollection concerning where I wanted to go with it, so if it seems as though I'm winging the next couple of chapters that's only because...well, I am._

_Happy Holidays everyone!_

_Eladriewen,_

_

* * *

_

The R.L.S. Mars was being attacked by nothing less than an armada. There had to have been at least ten ships flying toward them at mach speeds.

Silver grit his teeth and turned his gaze every which way. The deck was in a total panic. Spacers and officers of all varieties ran amok screaming and cursing and trying to find some semblance of organization, but to no avail. Sighing, Silver slipped back into the bowels of the ship to make his way back to his room. Jim had already moved out into the corridor which was already swimming with passengers.

"What's going on?" He yelled over the din.

"We're being attacked!" Silver replied while ushering the lad back into the room.

"Attacked?" Jim sounded slightly surprised. "But this isn't even a merchant vessel! Who the hell would be attacking us?"

"I don't know Jimbo," said Silver in all honesty. "But I know that if those blockheads above deck don't get started doing something soon there's not going to be much left of this ship to go home on."

Jim's face wrinkled in thought. Silver kept an eye out in the halls, trying to find someone who might give him a better understanding of what was happening. Why hadn't they started evacuating the ship yet? Passengers were stumbling over and under each other throughout the corridor, most likely either trying to get on deck, back to their rooms, or find somewhere safe to hide. It was a mess. So why wasn't anyone taking care of it?

Aggravated with the lack of intellect amongst the common man, Silver slammed the door, which caused Jim to jump nearly half a foot out of his own skin.

"Sorry." The old spacer grinned apologetically.

The young man ignored it. "Did you see the captain when you were up there?"

Silver scrunched his nose in thought. "No, don't think so."

"We should probably find him and see what his plan is."

"What do you mean?" Silver frowned, his gaze following Jim who was half pacing, half limping back and forth across the room.

"No one sends an armada after one ship. Chances are they're not after us at all, we're just...in the way sort of speak? And since we're not a military vessel we really don't pose these people any real threat. If we just got the ship out of the way...and preferably out of range...we'd probably be just fine."

Not surprised at Jim's logical deduction, Silver grinned, but then grunted. "And how are we supposed to find the Captain in all this mess?"

Without responding, Jim grabbed his cane and opened the cabin door. "The old fashioned way. We look for him." With that he left Silver in quiet contemplation. Finally he sighed.

"Damn stubborn kid," he cursed and followed his young friend out of the room and into the madness outside.

* * *

Jim's theory was, in retrospect, beyond reasonable. At least it had seemed that way until they both reached the decks of the ship. Cannon fire was erupting from the armada swooping in from both above, underneath, and to either sides of the R.L.S. Mars, but they were not actually hitting the ship. This, Jim explained as they made their way up a flight of stairs that both assumed must lead to the captain's quarters, was a good sign. Firing, but not to hit, should be taken as a warning. They had a standing chance just as long a they didn't fire back.

Rapping violently on the cabin door, Jim tried shouting for the captain. His voice, of course, was swallowed up by the deafening din of yet another cannon ball explosion near the starboard side of the ship. The force of the blow rocked the ship to the side and sent a splattering of debris flying over the decks. Everyone, including Silver and Jim, lurched forward.

After a few seconds and an exchanged glance of panic, Jim threw himself at the door in an attempt to pry it open. This of course did nothing, except perhaps remind the young man that he was in no physical condition to be performing such acts of undulated force.

"Um...why don't I do it?" Silver offered.

Grinning, Jim stepped aside. With one swift kick of Silver's cyborg leg the door came crashing into the cabin, taking the hinges and part of the frame with it. Jim looked on for a few moments, slightly astounded.

"I...uh...don't think that was necessary."

Silver beamed sheepishly. "Yeah...maybe we can blame it on the armada."

Chuckling, Jim stepped through the now shattered threshold and peered around.

"Well you're in luck. No one's in here so you don't have to worry about anyone pinning you to the damage."

Had the timing been better, Silver might have laughed at that comment. Now, however, he was more upset. "Well if the captain isn't in his cabin and he's not on deck, where is he?"

"That's a good question," said Jim who was already heading toward the door.

A second explosion abruptly went off in back of the ship. The sheer force brought the back of the vessel to a rising wave that nearly tipped the ship at a thirty degree angle. Jim went careening through the door and collided with the railing outside. Silver ended up getting smashed against a wall and narrowly avoided getting pinned by the vacant desk that had slid across the room with him.

"Jim, you all right?" Silver hollered after regaining his balance. He stumbled across the rest of the room groping the wall to see if he could find his friend. He did. Entangled in the banister was Jim, wide eyed and obviously bruised, but otherwise okay. Silver helped him to his feet and together they made their way down toward the deck.

"Where's the captain?" Jim finally shouted, having gotten fed up with their hunt. A young officer nearby heard them and directed them toward the northernmost point of the ship. Thanking the officer, Jim and Silver ran to where the captain stood, directing his officers with a grizzly voice and two wide, piercing, eyes.

"What do you two want?" he spat as soon as he saw the duo. "You need to be below deck where it's safe."

"Captain!" Jim begged as the man began to step away to guide his men into widening the solar sails. "Captain! You have to get the ship out of the way!"

The officer turned and looked Jim in the eye. "What?"

"They're firing at us sir, but they're not hitting us! They're warning us to get out of the way! They're not going to attack us if we get out of their way!"

"Young man I've followed this route for years! I'm not giving it up so easily!"

"They don't want the route!" Jim cried over the din of yet another explosion. This one went off almost directly above the mast. "Listen, if you just get out of their way you can save your ship and your crew! This isn't a military vessel so they'll leave you alone!"

"How do you know that?" The captain roared. "What if they're just working us around into a trap? Then what?"

"They won't!" Jim took a deep breath before beginning again. All the running around, excitement and yelling was beginning to take a toll on his strength. "This is a military armada! They're not going to mess with your ship because you don't have anything that they could want!"

"Except prisoners!"

"Sir you don't understand!"

The captain turned his back on Jim and hollered that the cannons be loaded. "We're not going down without a fight men!"

"Captain please!" Jim begged. "You have to listen to me!"

"You're just a kid!" The captain screamed back at him. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

Silver growled in the back of his throat. Fortunately he was the only one who heard it.

"Sir, please!"

"Load the cannons!" The captain cried.

"No, don't! You don't know what you're doing!"

"Ready!"

"WAIT!"

"FIRE!"

With a sickening sense in his stomach, Jim watched as the entire starboard side erupted in cannon fire. The plasma balls soared through the frictionless atmosphere of space and hit the mast of the foremost ship, rocking it and causing it to tilt to one side.

For a few moments, there was nothing but silence. Jim watched with grit teeth as the rest of the universe fell silent. He felt Silver's form inch slightly closer toward his own, each of their bodies tensed with the seemingly endless stream of time in which everyone waited to see what would happen next.

Then, just as Jim had expected, the naval force assailing them erupted in a storm of responding cannon fire.

* * *

_Oh dear, another cliffie. How's this for a comeback? Don't worry, I'll update soon. I promise. :) Happy Holidays everyone!_


End file.
